Simple Tactics
by KittyMayhem
Summary: Goku knew what he was. He ignored it, because it was simpler that way...until Vegeta's smell kindly reminds him. A third Class Saiyan dominating a prince? Stranger things have happened. It might make the prince a little mental though. G/V warnings inside
1. Domination over Royalty

AN:

Okay, okay. Look, things have been...let's be honest. I had writers block and I've been busy with school. The story took a backseat to life.

I figured that since I'm not that busy this weekend, I'd update this story.

That being said, the same warnings apply as last time.

I don't know where this story is going or how it's going to turn out, and yes, some of you will be screaming at me about different things...but let's make something clear:

This is a dominant/submissive relationship. There will not be any of that "beat you to within an inch of your life and rape you to death" shit. There is going to be some disciplinary actions, but nothing that will have you clawing at the screen saying "you're sick lady!". I really am not that type of person...personally the thought of rape in general just creeps me out. It's never justified and Goku will never take it to that level in my stories. He's trying to break the prince of his arrogance, and the only way to do that is to push ALL of his arrogant buttons.

Vegeta hates/loves me for this.

Oh, and yes, there are the main contenders of some fics: Mpreg and Hermaphodites.

It's fine if you don't like it and can't see certain characters like that. I totally understand. However, it's not going to bother me if you don't read it. I'm not ordering you to. I respect your opinion and will be happy if you don't say so or express it in a way that is respectful.

However, if you have a need to voice your vulgarity and tell me off, thanks to this little DELETE COMMENT feature, that's all I'm gonna do. Delete your comment and go about my merry way. I'm too old for weird comments.

ALL RIGHTY THEN...

Chapter one cometh...with some revisions.

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Simple Tactics

* * *

**Chapter 1:** Domination over Royalty.

There could be something said about the patience of a simple man. It went pretty far and it was hard to trigger something make that patience wear thin. Patience often led to endurance. Endurance meant outlasting the annoyance. Eventually the annoyance went away and life was peaceful again. Usually that's how it went…if one were normal.

Often a simple man was confused for a stupid one. There was a huge difference in the two, as one Son Goku could tell a person who bothered to ask him. No one did, so he never bothered to elaborate. It was simpler to let people assume either or. Goku lived his life as he saw fit and while others might have objected to his view of things and his lifestyle, there was no one to truly question it. He owed a lot of that to the nature of people and their inbred fear of what they didn't understand.

Sure he could be jovial. He was often more than not when it came to gatherings and being pestered about inane things. Everyday issues were amusing and the highlight of his day when they seemed to control the quality of one's day. Sure, everyone was entitled to having a bad hair day, but that didn't dictate one to lock themselves in the house and not come out until it was deemed worthy of sight. Bra was funny at times, but that…yes, that was a little much.

Yes he could be the life of the party. It was better to act like the party clown than to be bogged down with things he didn't want to talk about or see fit to. Everyone wanted to know everyone's business, and rather than be questioned and let slip that he wasn't as stupid as he led them to believe, it was best to find a bottle of sake, food, or a combination of both and keep his mouth shut somehow.

And then there was that little thing others tended to forget and remember in the heat of the moment; that thing about that simple guy destroying the earth if he wanted. Yes, it was a distinct possibility, and one they treaded on for weeks after things had settled down.

They had seen it often enough. It was the typical nonsense and even that got a little worn out after a while. Bad guy wants to rule the earth. Bad guy comes to try. Good guys come flying to the rescue. Goku knocks the hell out of them if he happens to be alive. If not, then the others get their asses kicked until one of them gets lucky.

Goku would never gloat on it. He didn't see the need. It was simpler to allow the others, humans and creatures alike, to believe that they could save the earth on their own. Sure he was at the head of the pack when the fighting got started. The others did work hard to afford something to the fight at hand. Yet…the reality of it sunk in much later on when Yamcha dropped out of the fighting, Tien vanished with Chou-zu, and Krillin easily passed the ball off to Goku when he'd gotten drop kicked once too hard. Then there were only Goku, his sons, Trunks, and another to fight the battles.

The thought of the other one made Goku's eye twitch ever so faintly. It wasn't often that a person like himself could allow people to make involuntary twitches of his face appear. Usually that was reserved for the jerk waiting to get his chest punched out of his ass. This person though; the arrogance alone could make him roll over in his grave, and he'd been dead often enough to do so. That haughty nature, the belief that he was conceived to be better than all, that he was of a different class and demanded to be treated so—it could be ignored. It often **was**.

At least until it had gotten them in serious hot water.

Goku found little tolerance for it now. It wasn't because the constant tirade was old, or that the quips about "lower class weaklings" did anything to deter his demeanor. It wasn't because they both knew the truth and neither of them thought to apply it to life and actually live it. He really didn't care what people did or said. It had no affect on him, or what he chose to do in the end. He could actually choose to walk away from it all and still no one could do much about it.

It was just one little thing. One simple thing that drove Goku nuts and it had been there from the very beginning when he first encountered the Prince. He'd noticed it once, and that small thing became a huge distraction and had been a major one as of late. It was so ridiculous. It really didn't make much sense.

Why would a smell push all wrong buttons anyhow?

"Hey Goku…you're drifting again…"

"I know." He turned to Krillin looking at him oddly and smiled a bit to throw him off. "I'm thinking about everything I want to eat is all. I'm starving!"

"Dude, when are you not starving?"

"When I'm fed. Duh."

Goku succeeded in making his longtime friend laugh. Safe to ponder once more, he sat back in his seat and concentrated on driving them back from the supermarket. This was a part of everyday life now. Since he'd learned how to drive, whenever there was a get together he'd be sent to get whatever groceries were forgotten. He was the only one who'd do so without much fuss. It gave him a chance to think about what he didn't have the liberty to in the company of others without them questioning him.

Krillin happened to tag along this time. Krillin didn't ask him questions like others would. He was content to leave him be, unless he was drifting for too long.

Goku took a right to get on the exit headed for Bulma's house. He felt his eye twinge at the thought of the Prince waiting…with that smell wafting off of him.

He didn't understand that smell, and he didn't want to understand what the smell meant for him. It disturbed the hidden beast within him and he wasn't sure if he could keep it under wraps for much longer.

* * *

When he got back to the house, it hit him harder than he would have liked. As such, Goku didn't have time to brace himself against it when the prince did appear in a show of arrogance.

"Oi, Vegeta….are you going to help with the groceries or what?" Krillin asked.

Vegeta snorted and helped himself to the bag with the ice-cream in it. "No."

"Hey, half of this junk is yours anyhow! You could at least carry some of it!"

The Saiyan Prince glared at Krillin, none too keen on being told what he could and could not do. The pint of ice-cream was directly in his hands now, so he had what he wanted. "Since when have you seen me tend to the groceries?" he asked. "Never. So why start now? Besides…you have this lummox over here to help you."

Goku felt something more than his eye twinge. He gritted his teeth and tried not to inhale anymore than he had. The swishing tail behind him stilled itself. He tried not to crush the bags that were in his hands. If Vegeta noticed, he didn't say anything of it. He simply turned and walked off, ignoring them like he tended to do.

Krillin huffed to himself. "Man…I don't get that jerk."

"No one does," Goku muttered. "Come on…Bulma will start screaming soon enough."

She was screaming long before. Goku smiled goofily at her plump face. She smiled back at him and didn't swat him too hard for taking so long to get the groceries. He also didn't mention that he had to go to three different stores to get everything on that list. He was well aware that half of it was for Vegeta. The cuts of meat were the telltale signs and the cost of them. Bulma wasn't looking for change, but he handed her back a good bit of it. She looked at him. Goku waved her off.

Simple men could afford what stupid men could not.

Normally he'd sit and chat with the others waiting on the food to hit the grill. Instead he headed into the house this time to place away the groceries that didn't need to be outside. Krillin started to come with. His wife deterred that, calling for him to come and help set up one or more of the nets they would be using for games. Alone with six plastic bags in hand, Goku jogged into the house and was knocked for a real loop when the smell assaulted him once again.

Had Kami been here as he had been, he would have been appalled to know why Goku uttered his name silently. Goku was slightly appalled himself. He struggled to keep a lid on that hidden jar within him and kept still for the time he needed to adjust.

He faintly heard the boys run past him, pestering one another. They'd grown a lot in the past years. Trunks and Goten had been friends since they were kids. It didn't look like that would end anytime soon. Goku was glad of it, and it took his mind away from where it had drifted. He smiled after them and his granddaughter running after them screaming about something they did. Trunks' laughter gave it away. They were guilty and weren't apologetic about it. Pan wasn't sorry either when she jumped on her uncle's backside and brought him down to the ground.

The house was empty from what he could see and hear. At least it appeared that way. Bulma's house was always huge and getting lost in it was a certain possibility. He'd been here many times before and he still could turn down the wrong corridor. However, his nose took him towards his destination unconsciously. It just happened to be in the direction of the kitchen.

Goku ducked inside, totally unprepared for what he saw.

The wife beater upon Vegeta's slender but muscular frame did nothing to hide the finer points of his body. His legs were bare, and Goku could be sure that the prince was sitting in nothing but his skivvies. He didn't have to see to know that those taut legs were crossed, baring nothing but well aware of what they barely covered. Goku mistakenly took a deep breath and regretted it.

Vegeta looked up from where he was perched not in the least bit phased at Goku's appearance. He scoffed at it instead, turning his gaze elsewhere. Spoon in hand and tongue steadily licking the sweet cream from the underside of it, the arrogant prince didn't see it coming until it was way too late.

When he thought about later, Goku would realize that he dropped the bags on the floor. His chest did something he'd only done once, and that was the first time he noticed that smell. It rumbled, purred almost toward where he was nearly vibrating, overcome with instincts that he'd shoved down for the sake of his sanity. Simple men were not stupid. There was a huge difference. Simple men could ignore, be free, and be trapped. Stupid men had nothing, knew it all, and often paid for their nonsense because of their impulsive actions.

This wasn't impulsive. It was over the borderline of instinct and clawing itself out of him quickly. That beast within him has had enough and it wasn't about to sit to the side for the sake of appearances a moment longer. It wanted out and it wanted out **now**. The prince didn't even see it coming. The fool. Had he, he might have had a chance to get away.

It wasn't likely.

Vegeta, dropping the spoon from his fingers, snarled up at Goku pressing him down onto the floor. "Are you fucking insane?" he spat. "Get the hell off of me!"

Hair in his eyes, Goku peered down at the prince. He couldn't know that the faint glow of gold circling his obsidian eyes alarmed the prince in any manner. Vegeta had a face of stone, but even stone eventually succumbed to its natural enemies. It started with the slight tremble of his arms. They were pinned under Goku's hands on either side of his head, immobile against the brute force that had taken over. He couldn't move them even if he had dared to try, and even that was suicide when the prince noticed the fangs. Granted, their race had sharper canines, but it was never **that** noticeable. Goku's were sharp, gleaming, and grinning wickedly down at the temptation of Vegeta's neckline. He could hear the rush of that heartbeat quickening to match the panic in the Prince's eyes. It only enhanced that scent…that fucking smell that made it much harder to think.

Vegeta lifted his knees to buck Goku off of him. It was a mistake he realized two seconds too late.

"Hn...that explains quite a lot," Goku said softly. The prince was silent, his red face saying it all. "Tell me…Vegeta…do you think I'm simple or stupid?"

"Kakorrot! Get off of me!"

"I will…once you answer my question."

He really wasn't expecting more than the usual answer. Goku wasn't disappointed, but he was amused at the effort the prince put into finding a clever way to tell him once again that he was indeed an idiot. Once Vegeta had rightfully run out of steam, Goku let his tail do the talking; cracking the flooring below with one sharp tap. He jerked Vegeta's stunned arms upward, pinning them over his head with one hand while the other pulled at the nearly non-existent undergarments hiding the source of that smell. The time for playing games was now over.

Vegeta stopped moving, frozen with absolute terror. "N-No...there's….there's no way…"

This close, he could smell Goku as he was. The smile Vegeta got was anything but kind. It was predatory, and he had his prey under his fingers. Memories surfaced; Goku was always standing in the direction the wind was blowing, but never close to him of within his sight. He never thought to smell him; Goku was never close enough and fighting with him only brought out the animosity. Had Vegeta not been thinking about beating that smug face in, he might have avoided this situation as it stood now; with him beneath Goku, his essence plucking the strings of Vegeta's nature in ways that made the prince highly uncomfortable.

Vegeta breathed in sharply as the elastic holding his undergarments was torn and ripped from his body. He didn't dare move when the rest was slipped from around his loins and left him open and bare for all of whoever decided to walk in on this. Much to his relief and horror, no one was coming.

"Oh…so you finally figured it out?" Goku asked. "Tell me…my _prince_…have you neglected to remind yourself that while there were classes…there were **Alpha** males?"

He hadn't heard that term in a long time, and to think that this lummox was one—

Goku smirked a little wider. Vegeta's silence was answer enough. Deft fingers tugged what was left of little garment from underneath the lithe sculpted body beneath him. They flew over in the direction of the bags and barely landed before Vegeta had his head tossed back, a silent scream caught in his throat. His hands flew from where they were once pinned, gripping that head of black currently between his legs and reminding Vegeta just what an Alpha was and why he avoided being dominated. His legs spreading themselves of their own volition was one of many reasons; forget his hips thrusting themselves upward in time to the tongue delving deeper with every pass. It was sickening to know that this lower class saiyan was a hidden gem of a race that was long gone, and that despite what he thought, Vegeta could not escape his own inbred nature of **submissiveness**.

Goku was a simple person; a simple person who knew what he was long before he was told about it. His time in the afterlife wasn't without merit. He found out a lot about his race, and it only confirmed what he knew instinctively. It was what put him here without question. It was what allowed him to completely bypass the laws of class and taste the hidden nectar of his prince without fear of ramification.

Vegeta was an arrogant spoiled person, one who surely didn't think for a second that he could or would ever be dominated. He never once assumed that the simple one, the lummox as he so often called Goku, would be the one thing that could and would do what came natural. Theirs was a simple race with a simple rule: Dominate or be dominated.

The fire had churned in his belly past the point of mingled pleasure and pain when Goku stopped. He tore his head away with a lick of his lips, a feral grin in his eyes. Vegeta lay beneath him flushed, panting and spread wantonly; his neglected cock hard and heavy against his abs and the hidden piece of his neglected nature dripping wet. The prince trembled, waiting for the inevitable…but it never came.

Goku sat up, licking the back of his fingers. "Delicious…better than I thought it'd be…"

"W-what the…?"

"Hm? Oh…it's not that simple, Vegeta," Goku purred. "It's not that simple at all."

He stood up then, eyes on his prize and the promise of something more lingering in his gaze. Vegeta couldn't quite understand what he meant. Hell, he didn't quite understand any of it. Alpha males tended to take what they wanted. They didn't care how or when, but they always took what they thought was within their rights. By nature, Goku should have been in the middle of—Vegeta's cheeks heated up profusely thinking about it. Either way, he should have been in the middle of being claimed without question, as so many others had. It wasn't something anyone prepared for. It just happened, and when it happened you went with it. Fighting it…made it painful.

Goku seemed to have other ideas. He growled softly, leaning forward a bit to knock Vegeta flat on his back once more. "It's like this. You only have to do two things." He held up two fingers, much like some overwhelming jerk would do to a person whom he assumed and treated like a moron. Vegeta didn't take kindly to the reference, but there wasn't much he could say on his backside with his bits out and vulnerable to Goku's possible change of heart. "Just…two."

Vegeta followed the sinking pit of his stomach down to the unfounded sense that he was going to wish he was in hell. "…what?"

"The first thing is simple. You will obey. And not just anyone," he said when the prince opened his mouth to say something scathing, "just me. You will obey **me** Vegeta…without question. I know you're capable of it, especially now…"

"What in the hell makes you think for one fucking second that I will even entertain the thought of some lummox giving me orders!" he spat. He regretted it the moment it come flying out of his mouth, but old habits die hard for a reason. He might as well see it to the end, death or otherwise. "You really think you have what it takes to be an alpha male! Then do what you're supposed to and spare me the mind fuck!"

Goku stilled, grinned, and put a hole in the counter walls next to them with his tail. "Two," he said as if Vegeta never opened his mouth, "you're off limits."

"Off what? What the hell are you going on about!"

"I said you were off limits. In other words…no one…fucking touches you…but ME."

"You must be fucking—"

"I'm serious, Vegeta. No one better touch you…not unless you like seeing limp lifeless bodies and being chained until you get my point."

Any other day, Vegeta would have laughed at him in his face and told him to fuck off. As it was, he didn't dare. The fool had punched a hole in the wall with his tail, and cracked the floor just as easily without thinking about it. The smile was gone from his eyes and his mouth, and all that remained was the unsung threat of a level four saiyan coming to the surface as the Alpha male he could and would be. Theirs was a race that did not tolerate what was theirs being violated, in the metaphorical and physical sense. It was one of the reasons why there were few Alpha males; they often killed one another over trivial matters.

Their chosen ones however; Alpha males did not take kindly to anyone—friend, foe, or indifferent— touching, looking, or even inhaling the scent of those they laid claim to. It was also the reason why the population didn't climb much. They killed without merit and held no qualms. Knowing this, Vegeta couldn't quite see Goku slipping into those shoes.

Goku proved him wrong before…and he proved him wrong now when his silence only sparked the nature to claim a little sooner. Though it wasn't as painful as being taken in such a fashion, being bitten in such an open spot as his shoulder was no picnic either.

"I mean it, Vegeta," he said pulling back. There was a bit of blood on Goku's fangs; the wound was deep and running freely, the blood staining the white wife beater, the floor, and Vegeta's pride. "No one. Better. **Touch**. **_You_**."

He got up then, on his feet and heading for the open doorway. Vegeta wouldn't have been who he was if he had just lain there. As it was, Goku swiftly moved to the right of a punch and turned in time to grab the prince by his throat. He slammed Vegeta into the nearest wall, grinning again as Vegeta clawed at his hands. "I knew it wouldn't be that easy," he said. "It wouldn't have been as fun."

Fun! He thought this was fun! "So…you're planning to kill…anyone…who touches me?" he rasped, determined to undermine this. There was no way he was going down like this! "Including your family? Mine!"

"Oh…that. Hm…I'll let you figure that out over the next couple of days. Until then…enjoy your freedom." He dropped him like a sack of potatoes; glaring down at snort he was given. "Do the smart thing….**_prince_**. It can be simple…or quite complicated for you. Now…put these away, and come outside in fifteen minutes. If you don't…well, Bulma won't miss the other half of her house much."

Goku left the bags, the prince, and the scent of his dominance behind him. Vegeta watched him go, confused, angry, and shamefully aroused by the display.

He knew Goku was a simple man…but the overgrown beast had finally run out of patience.

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Questions? Comments? Reviews?

Leave em and I'll get back to you.


	2. Learning to Obey

Okay...this is going up with some trepidation...and I've been sitting on this chapter long enough.

It hasn't changed much. Grammatical errors and such but, not much else. I think I'll leave it as is.

I think I said it before...but nothing VIOLENT will be happening sexually. You know...like, blood and gore crap. Come on...you should know me by now. Anything violent on my behalf will be in a fight against a jerk who has it coming and even then the worst I've done was rip their mother f***ing spine the f*** out.

Just read Dealing with it revised Chap 3. The fucker had it coming.

*stomps Turles in the face*

Sorry for the slow updates, but like I said...School and education cometh first. :)

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**Chapter 2:** Learning to Obey

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"Vegeta…what in the hell happened to your shoulder?!"

The question came flying out of nowhere and left Vegeta stunned for a moment. He noticed the blur of blue coming for him before he could process it, but oddly enough…

"Hmm? What is it?" he asked.

"I dunno…that looks rather painful…" Bulma said. She stopped shy of five feet away from him, staring at the odd looking wound on his shoulder. He stared at it himself, short of growling when he remembered just how it got there. The reason for his wound was sitting unnoticed at the table, helping himself to a huge helping of burgers fresh off the grill.

Goku paid him no mind, yet Vegeta couldn't quite help the feeling that the overgrown oaf was quite aware of what was going on.

"It's nothing woman," he muttered. "Mosquitoes…"

"Mosquitoes?!"

"YES! Now if you don't have anything useful to ask me, move!"

Time stopped in his ears when the blue haired woman shrugged and walked off as if he hadn't said anything. Bulma was known for giving back as good as she got. It was half the appeal in her that he actually liked when they were getting along. Their rows were nothing if explosive, but the fight was satisfying to something in his blood; something to cling to and thrive on because someone other than himself questioned his merits and actions. There was something empowering in arguing; it was even better when he got the upper hand and had her screaming.

Bulma walking away without snapping at him had him at a total loss. Confusion didn't sit well with the prince, nor did an upset in the routine he'd crafted for himself around times like these. That lummox must have had something to do with this…

"Whoa…Bulma, what's the matter with you?" Krillin asked. Disbelief was written all over his face, clear and unabashed as Vegeta's confusion. "Shouldn't you be yelling at him for not being concerned…or something?"

"Why should I?" Bulma asked. "It's not doing anything for anyone except blowing their eardrums out. If he doesn't want to say what happened, that's his business. He knows where the first aid kit is." She shrugged again as if to say she was bored with the entire conversation and moved onto another topic. "Hey, someone pass me a Shish kabob!"

That was the end of that. Once the topic was over for Bulma, she never brought it up again. Krillin was a little slack jawed, but he wisely said nothing more of it. He went back to his burger and telling a laughing Yamcha off when he saw that his pickle was missing. "Oi, asshole! Get your own flipping pickle!"

"Your fault for not keeping your eyes on your food," Yamcha chuckled. "Next time, mind your business and you'll be a pickle richer."

"How about next time I knock your jaw shut so you can't eat?"

"Promises, Promises."

"Someone want to pass the ketchup so some of us can eat properly?" Gohan asked. It was the first thing he'd said most of the time he'd been here. Beforehand he'd had his nose in book, much like he tended to do when he was young at his mother's insistence. It was a habit that he hadn't broken, even though he was grown and could fend for himself just fine. The book in hand wasn't some scholastic reading either. Another look at it had Krillin blinking owlishly at the title. "What?" Krillin looked up to find Gohan staring down at him, a small smirk playing at his lips. "You didn't think all I read were history books, did you?"

"For Kami's sake," Krillin muttered, "No…but I didn't think you read that!"

"It's not a surprise," Yamcha grinned. "All the best stuff usually comes later in life."

"And you would know what about that particular book, eh Yamcha? Mister **_ladies_** man?"

Gohan snorted this time as Yamcha settled back laughing heartily. "Dude, what your repressed mind doesn't know will not kill you. By the way Gohan," he said ignoring the choking noises coming from Krillin, "I have the next volume if you want to borrow it."

"Wait, what?!"

"Awesome!" Gohan crowed. "I'm dying to know if that sleaze ball John gets his!"

Yamcha patted him on the shoulder. "Worth the read. So worth…the read."

If Krillin wasn't completely brain dead from the shock of the last two revelations, Vegeta was a virtual vegetable standing there watching the commotion. Yamcha and Gohan went on with their little conversation with both males scooting closer to the other to immerse themselves in what was deemed their "favorite" part of the book. If that meant someone bending over and getting it from the back, they were all for it and blushing as they read on like a woman deeply immersed in a soap opera.

Krillin eventually straightened himself out and decided that eating was safer than asking questions. It was somewhat annoying not having someone ask all the obvious questions and getting those answers without really asking. Vegeta was quite curious as to what had the former cueball so flushed and silent.

Krillin did look up again from his meal when he noticed Vegeta standing there. "Oi, that does look a bit bad," he mentioned lightly. "I hope you put some disinfectant on it or something."

"He'll be fine."

Goku finally moved. It was only to talk, but he moved enough to look at Krillin trying to decipher that vote of confidence coming from his buddy. Vegeta scowled. If the little jerk only knew. "It's nothing serious," Goku said. "I'm sure it was a mosquito, like he said. Probably a big fucker…"

"A big fucker is right!" Vegeta spat. "Should have smashed the hell out of it…"

Much to his infuriation, Goku smirked under than innocent façade. "Should have…but didn't." That big fucker was such a shit! Okay, it sounded better when he said it in his head in the heat of the moment. Whatever. Goku didn't own up to what he was under that mask. He was sitting here like it was no big deal that he'd unleashed the growling beast under that calm frame and sought to dominate a prince as a pauper! It certainly did not help matters that it was making Vegeta hot under the collar, and not in the blow everything sky high and think about it later kind of way.

Nooo. It was never that simple.

In his usual fashion of ignoring the others, Vegeta stalked off with his arms crossed, nose slightly upturned, and his tail swaying irritably.

In HIS usual fashion, Goku quickly put an end to that.

"What in the HELL—"

The firm grip on his arm kept him from finishing that sentence. "Sit down." It wasn't a request. It was an order, a polite one, but an order nonetheless. Vegeta's lip upturned itself in a sneer, and it sparked the newly fueled fire brimming under Goku's calm exterior. He grinned.

There was a bit of blood left on those fangs. Vegeta saw it and it made him even madder. The wound in his shoulder throbbed in tune to seeing the blatant tool of his injury grinning so hard it looked like it hurt. Personally, he would have liked nothing more than to wipe that grin off of Goku's face and take those fangs out by force. His face was a giveaway to his thoughts.

When Vegeta thought about it later on in life, it was probably the reason why he found himself suddenly in the depths of some room with Goku towering over him.

And why his hands were bound…

And…why he was tossed onto his bed….without his clothing…

He didn't have a snowball's chance in hell to stop Goku without giving it his all. His mind was still stunned, not quick working well enough to process that he was gaping at Goku and not saying anything. His body did move, but with the assistance of Goku's hands. Arms thrust upward and tied to the bedpost, he didn't think to yank them down and break free. He was too busy staring at his legs being thrust apart and Goku between them again, inhaling his scent.

The loud rumble that reverberated from the depths of his chest and off of the silent walls of his room snapped the prince out of his stupor. He yanked his arms.

They were stuck tight.

"Did you really think I would tie you with something easily snapped?"

This shouldn't have been happening. It was like a bad scene out of one of those porns that Bulma watched from time to time when she wanted to do something "kinky" in her definition of the word. Granted those times were memorable, but not for the reasons a guy would want to remember. Goku's hand on his hip kept him from thinking about that and had him focused on the fingers teasing his hairless skin, damning whoever thought it would be a good idea for his skin to be sensory overload at the right touch. Vegeta squirmed, trying to break free of that teasing caress, but like most things in life at this point in time, it was futile.

Goku's wild look mirrored his smile. He cocked his head to the side, marveling at the soft glow of ivory skin kissed by the sun. "You really are quite the specimen, Vegeta." He was petite for his age, slender…sculpted to those who saw him in those infernal tight clothes he wore. They couldn't have possibly seen the gentle curve of his hips, that soft demeanor of his body as it flushed against his touch though he did nothing more than stroke the outside of his hip. "But you need discipline…and I aim to give it to you."

Several things ran through Vegeta's mind, first and foremost the fear of being taken. He'd never allowed anyone to dominate him in such a manner and he wasn't about to now! He braced his legs to kick himself up at possibly strike Goku in the face, but Goku was waiting for it and him, and deflected his movements with his hands pinning his legs open upward.

He wasn't even sure how Goku managed to do it, but his legs were bound in the same manner with whatever he'd used to keep his arms from moving. He was completely exposed, all of him.

Goku couldn't have been more pleased at that.

"You fool!" Vegeta spat, "Don't be so fucking smug! You think the others aren't going to come looking for you and I after vanishing like that?!"

"Normally it would bother me…" Goku admitted. "Normally I would care. However, since we're not exactly at your place or a place anyone else knows aside myself, I doubt that will be an issue."

He didn't have a chance to wonder what that meant. Those same fingers that had been caressing his thigh slid over his most private area; kneading the smooth flesh with his thumb and ring finger. He needn't have worried about simulating the soft cock sitting to the right of his hand. It was already at half mast and steadily rising as Goku moved to kiss, lick, and bite the right cheek begging for his hand print.

At least it would be in a couple of hours. Vegeta's light tremble would be amplified tenfold and Goku would still be sitting there, watching his middle finger slide between the two hidden folds of flesh and drawing a startled cry from his soon to be mate.

"It really isn't that simple, Vegeta," he purred, slipping his finger further into that tight warmth. His tail slapped the bed, twisting enticingly behind him as he leered into the stunned and flushed face uncertain of where this was going. "I don't take anything. I really don't have to."

What kind of nonsense was that?! "What do you mean?! Aaah!"

"Exactly how it sounds. I don't have to take anything from you…I'm going to make you **beg** for it."

* * *

"Oi! Where have you two been all this time? You missed everything!"

Goku acknowledged Krillin with a simple grin that shoved the short one off guard once more. "Oh, a bit of training is all," he said absently. "Can't get rusty."

"You could have said that instead of vanishing like it was nothing."

"I could have."

"You gonna stand there or help?"

"Stand here. Vegeta…help them. I'm going to raid the kitchen."

Krillin's face contorted itself so quickly it was hard to believe his face hadn't frozen. Regardless, Vegeta moved from behind Goku, his face red and his head down. His movements were stiff at best, but he took the trash bag from Krillin and quickly went about gathering the trash that had been left over from the little get together that they'd missed.

The others silently watched him work. Krillin thought he'd finally lost what little mind he had left, but then Yamcha and Gohan chalked it up to him losing a bet, which was more probable than anything else. Still, it wasn't like Vegeta to go about doing anything without mouthing off about something, or somehow weaseling his way out of situations by being difficult. His mouth was his weapon, and people usually amounted to giving into their instincts to leave him be rather than contend with an angry saiyan.

What they didn't know was that Vegeta was seething, more so at himself than at anything that could have happened to him today. He jammed several paper cups into the bag, wishing it was his fist in the ground just to keep from thinking about how easily he'd given into that overgrown beast headed into the house now.

His arms and legs ached from being held against the board for hours, locked in the same position and not allowed to move one way or the next. Everything that could be seen was seen, and touched…and licked, and laved, and sucked until he was littered with kiss shaped bruised peppered around his inner thigh. His mouth was always moving; purring in his ear, telling him the most solicit things he could think of, claiming ownership of his bitten shoulder and playing with his nipples until they were swollen and oversensitive.

His shirt irritated the buds that were tender to the touch from being toyed with so. He tried not to rub them, pushing himself to grab more of that trash and not think about the five hours he'd spent feeling Goku's fingers toy any part they could reach. His hair, his ears…the soft patch of skin where his neck and collarbone melded…the small of his back…tracing the small area where his tail should be…

He tied the bag shut when it was full and burned it then and there. The smell was immense. It didn't keep the images at bay of how that lummox had shown him that he was more than just an overgrown saiyan who didn't know right from left. How could he not have known!? How could he have let him…

"I don't believe this!" he cried to himself. "There's no fucking way—"

A firm hand grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed without warning. He froze.

"Do you have something you want to say aloud?" Goku purred softly. "Something worth pissing me off?"

He wasn't pissed before?! Goku's close proximity reminded him of the sting in his backside, the hand marks that had reddened skin and raised it until he couldn't take it anymore. What did the damn fool expect with teasing him so fucking much that he came without warning?! Apparently that had been the wrong thing to do…Goku had unfastened him and turned him over, snarling and ordering him to be still. The first whack against his hide had startled him so much he'd jumped, and that had earned him seven more lashes with that hand that currently had him by the neck…

"Vegeta."

He shook his head. "No." It wasn't worth irking the dominant side of this saiyan he had not seen before now. One hand squeezed his neck and the other his shoulder, reminding him of the ache that reasserted itself when Goku had bitten him again at the end of it all.

He'd been tied back up…lying there and struggling not to come and come undone. His ass stung, his legs were jello, and his cock was so hard that touching it would have set it off. Goku knew this and keep toying with the glands, pinching and rubbing, forcing him to try and move when he could not. He covered his face, but the last part was still stuck in his mind…still taunting him with that face above him, smiling in triumph as Goku rubbed himself against Vegeta, hard, leaking, and soaking up the nectar that ran freely from the soft swollen folds that had started this mess. Vegeta had bit his lip bloody trying not to scream in frustration…and when Goku had decided he'd finally had enough…

"You remember what I said, right?"

…he'd left him there. He'd pulled away and left him there…gasping, aching for it…and wondering what in the hell he'd done to deserve this.

Goku had gone and didn't come back for a solid half hour. When he did come back, he'd simply untied him, tossed another set of clothes at him and directed him to the shower down the hall. Vegeta had stared at him like he was insane, even as Goku came down to his level and said in no uncertain terms—

"It's not that simple. You're going to have to **_earn_** it."

And just like that he was back to his aloof simple self, firmly directing him to hit the shower. Vegeta had gone with the intentions of either running or finishing himself off, but Goku had gone with him and personally washed him, dressed him, and brought him back here.

That's the part that pissed him off so much…he'd let Goku do it. He hadn't protested in the least, and this…this feeling of inadequacy…the humiliation of being brought through such trials only to be denied what should have been a fast and quick claiming…

"….w-why…are you doing this to me…" he muttered softly.

Goku pressed his lips to his ear as if he were telling him something private. He growled, and hissed none too gently, "Because you have no discipline…and my mate will obey me in all ways. You have to earn me, Vegeta…" He nipped at his ear, smiling at the look of utter shock in the smaller saiyan's eyes. "You don't get what you want or expect from now on. I've let you play for far too long. Only what is given to you…and if you want something, you damn well better have a right to ask."

Goku left him standing there in the middle of the courtyard, shivering, disgusted, and wetter than he'd been the first time he'd been attacked.

He fell to his knees and realized with a shudder than Goku hadn't even begun to break him.

He was a true Alpha male…and Vegeta was in a shitload of trouble.

* * *

Vegeta: *stares*

Me: What? Oh come on, you wanted a new role, this is it.

Goku: *smirk*

Me: It could have been you.

Goku: *straight face*

Me: Better.

Just for some slight info on the next chapter...we have a slightly unexpected pairing that just POPPED in. Anyone who guesses who it is beforehand gets ten points.

Working on it now. :P


	3. Rude Awakening

AN:

It's...somewhat tame in here.

I'm keeping tally of the points. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3:** Rude Awakening

* * *

"Vegeta, why does that look like it's going to scar?"

Because it was going to. It was the way this type of thing worked and there wasn't any traveling backward from being marked in such a fashion. He wasn't going to tell her that. He did avoid her curious touch, stepping backwards and away and ultimately walking from her questioning face turning into noticeable concern. The last thing he needed right now was her pity or her inevitable way of getting into things that were none of her concern. Absently rubbing the offending mark, he walked off to find somewhere quiet to collect himself and fuel that fire sitting low in his stomach at the thought of…him.

Of all the stupid rotten fucked up luck, Kakorrot had to be an ALPHA male. How could he have not seen it?! Because that bastard didn't want him to see it, or was highly unaware of himself until recently. Who knew? Who was to tell?! The bastard certainly made it like he'd known from the start and had everyone under his thumb. That couldn't have been. That female he called his wife, Chi-chi…she'd bore him two sons worth being proud of considering their humanity. Surely that was his breeding mare…his mate. She had status in the house, say so in all his doings, and barely let him out of her sight when he was with her. Even her children, grown as they may be, still bent to her rule…which didn't make him feel any better about Kakorrot's sudden change in demeanor or why he was coming after him NOW.

He shifted, changing his stance to keep from noticing why he tended to keep to himself at times. It was getting more uncomfortable by the moment. Rather than dawdle, he headed out into the main room to find the quickest route to his private chambers, where no one would bother him for days on end. Maybe by then…

"Whoa…that is not a mosquito bite," someone mused. "That is someone gnawing on your shoulder…"

Vegeta clamped his hand over the healing wound on his neck, spinning around to quickly tell off whoever opened their mouths. How could anyone else have known that? It was more like a bruise…and he hadn't seen teeth marks at all! No sooner had he opened his mouth, he shut it in favor of staring stupidly at the two people he did not expect to still be here. Yamcha opened one eye from where he lay on the couch, hardly interested in the comment made by the person lying against him. Gohan, still halfway into his book, looked up again and met Vegeta's startled eyes.

They were the picture of unsolicited comfort; Yamcha sprawled out on the couch as if he owned the place and not willing to move for anything less than food or the drink sitting by him on the end table. Even that seemed too much of a burden; his hand halfway lifted only to drop back down and land atop Gohan's head. The light caress was not missed, nor was the soft sutble purr given to him by the younger half saiyan who dropped his book completely on Yamcha's stomach and nipped at the fingers dancing at his nose. It was a picture out of Vegeta's wildest nightmares, one he expected to wake from screaming at any moment now.

He didn't wake up. He was wide awake feeling the blood rush to his face and his confusion rise when Yamcha reached for something and threw it at him. Vegeta caught it by instinct, almost too stunned to look at what it was when Yamcha laid back down and waved him off.

"It's from my father," Gohan explained. "He said to give it to you before you holed yourself up."

That fucking— "What?! I—"

"Yeah, yeah…we know…so spare us the tirade," Yamcha sighed. "Just take it…and for your sake, please don't throw it away. You'll only piss him off."

What in the hell? Piss him off? Who? Surely they weren't talking about that oaf sitting somewhere in the winds gloating about this shit to himself. He looked down and nearly crushed the container in his hands. It was an ointment…a fast healing ointment used for bruises, cuts, and abrasions…one guaranteed to heal whatever was ailing one's self within a couple of days. He knew the brand. He'd used it more than often when he got into those little spats with Goku when they were still unknowing of one another and Vegeta thought Goku would always be none the wiser. That still confused him, but this irritation that bubbled up in his chest was new…and unwelcome.

Rather than heeding the warning given to him, Vegeta tossed that jar of ointment somewhere behind him and stomped off to find solitude.

Yamcha rolled his eyes and shoved Gohan's laughing head a bit. "I knew I shouldn't have bet you money."

Gohan snickered a little more. "Whatever. How long do you think it'll take him to ask the obvious?"

"About as long as it takes for the inevitable to happen. And no, I'm not putting money on it."

"Spoilsport."

The door didn't slam behind him like he wanted it to. He'd let go the moment he laid eyes on the room he'd called his own from the moment he claimed it. The door was one of the few remaining regular doors of the house, on hinges, swinging, and in need of some 1040w to stop the slight creaking when it moved back and forth. It was a forgotten place, one that hadn't been touched by the many upgrades of the house; one that he'd run to when things were getting difficult and he didn't feel like dealing with anyone, which was more often than not these days. He knew the reasons why, but he continued to let them believe what they wanted and that was fine with him. As long as there was this room…this undisturbed space…he was fine…

At least, that's what he thought.

The bed was nothing special. It was a full sized bed with some sheets he'd purchased not too long ago and scented up within hours of buying them. The room itself wasn't that big and only filled with things he liked and necessary things, like weights and a couple of books and even a small television set. It really wasn't anything special if someone else were to come and look at it; four walls and some objects…but it was **his**.

WAS.

The bed now had the occupied weight of the alpha male he'd wanted to avoid for a couple of days yet. Vegeta could smell him throughout the room, mingling with his own scent and making it hard to stay planted in his spot. He couldn't bring himself to leave, but he didn't want to stay anywhere near that bastard lying there as if this weren't anything big. He backed away as slowly as he could, but it wasn't enough. He was more than aware and with a flick of his wrist, the door was shut.

"Where's the ointment?"

Vegeta didn't answer. He couldn't even if he wanted, and even if he did the words bubbling within would only land him in a heap of trouble. Silence was just as bad. The jar was sitting somewhere in the room where Gohan and Yamcha were probably sitting lying against one another, and that only moved to make his head hurt a little worse than the mark on his neck. He gripped that a little harder, backing up again when Goku sat up from where he lie and swung his legs over the edge of the bedding.

"Didn't they give it to you?"

Vegeta had the overwhelming urge to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine—with a lot less pleasant words—but the urge was overwhelmed with that irritation that had bubbled in his chest in the living room. Rather than opening his mouth, he nodded and immediately pressed his back to the door.

Somewhere in some space of time that was not here and now, Goku had gotten up and slammed his fists through the door with his open rage for disobedience. Vegeta braced himself for it, for that thing that should have been done in the first place, and for his life to change without his say so.

Goku didn't move a muscle other than to flick his tail to the side in slight interest. "So…if they gave it to you…where is it? And why hasn't it been used?"

Vegeta didn't realize that his world hadn't been rocked violently until he noticed that he was still pressed against the door. Worse yet, he'd shut his eyes and had to pry one open with his cheeks lighting on fire from the shame of expecting the worst and being completely wrong for the moment. "…Back in the living room." Vegeta believed in moments. Moments came and went but they didn't disappoint. What was a momentary fail now would be a delay in the inevitable and soon enough Goku would…give into his…instincts…whatever those were. Vegeta hadn't actually DEALT with an Alpha male in person before, but he'd heard and seen enough to know that no matter what they said, they would eventually succumb to what they were bred to do.

Goku still didn't move. "I see."

Silence passed between them. Vegeta stayed where he was, hand tightened around the mark that Goku had left upon him and his heart thundering in his chest to irritate him even more than he was before. When he looked up again, Goku was staring out the window as if he weren't there! The oaf wasn't moving. He wasn't even interested in moving! It only served to make Vegeta madder than before, already more than pissed that his space had been invaded!

"So, rather than take the open out I've given you, you've decided to seal your fate?" Goku said this as his tail tapped the bed again, softly, without merit, and highly deceptive to his interest in that moment and what Vegeta would say. If there was one thing that the smaller saiyan had learned without this mess upon his shoulders, he understood that the simple façade was a way of keeping himself unreadable and downright fucking dangerous if given more than the allotted room a simpleton should have. Too many people had fallen at the hands that were resting idly on the bed, not curling up to do anything or moving other than to support the bit of his weight when Goku leaned back in what looked like boredom. "Are you really that stupid?"

"Stupid!?"

"The word fits the named…and either you're completely stupid or you've come to understand that this isn't something done lightly or to be taken lightly."

"I am FAR from STUPID!" Vegeta roared. "The only stupid thing I've done is underestimate you once too often for my liking, and I'm NOT FALLING FOR YOUR TRICKS KAKORROT!"

"And…what tricks would that be?!"

"That damn cream you left with them!" He wanted to scratch his chest. Vegeta didn't think irritability could make one itch so, or hotter under the collar than he'd been in quite some time. "I know what you're implying…and if you think for one fucking second that I'm not going to catch on, you better think again!"

Goku finally, **finall**y, looked his way. Vegeta felt his heart seize up right alongside his body when the red rimmed gold irises of that level four beast flickered without being fully brought to the surface. The impassive face broke out into a feral grin that widened enough to allow a small laugh from that chest, the one that would inhale deeply and sigh as if that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard in a long time.

Goku stood and walked for the door. Vegeta was still pressed against it, and swallowing nervously as he once again thought the worst. Once again, Goku made him look like a total ass and reached past him to grab the doorknob. "Have it your way."

He was gently moved from in front of the door and placed aside just enough to allow Goku to slip past him without so much as a look of acknowledgement. Vegeta, relieved for reasons his mind could not fathom, was surprised and horrified to find himself feeling shamed in some manner. There was nothing to be ashamed about! He'd told Goku that he wasn't falling for it and the jerk had left! It was the end goal that mattered, and that idiot was not in his personal space!

Seriously, there was no logical reason to feel like a total unworthy ass, nor a reason for why it was suddenly a need to put his fist through the wall with a shout of total frustration. The wall gave way as he knew it would. The plaster and paint fell inward and coated his hand and the floor, the hole a gaping piece of missing wall staring at him and doing nothing to answer his question or soothe the damning irritability he felt too keenly and wanted no part of.

_ "Are you really that stupid?"_

Stupid? No. Not in the least. That cream back there was an insult…an insult to his pride and his tolerance. The wound on his neck was there for all to see, for all to realize that he wasn't to be touched even if they didn't realize it. It was going to scar and there was nothing short of dying that could remove Vegeta from that status…other than being outright rejected. While the process tended to be wracked with mindless sexual domination and it was usually better to go along than to fight, that mark…this damned mark on his neck was a mark of approval…as if he'd passed some test he wasn't even aware of.

To be given something to remove some of the evidence…to have something placed in his hand and told to apply it to the mark to let it heal faster…

It was like being slapped right after by the one dominating, being laughed at and toyed with as if to label him as nothing more than a worthless whore…not even worthy of being marked.

A cold coiled knot slammed into the depths of his stomach.

"Vegeta."

"….what."

"Don't make me a liar…and it wasn't an insult." Goku threw something into the room. In landed with a soft thump on the bed, still closed and still waiting to be used when the smaller saiyan decided to come back to his senses. "But if that's how you feel…then I suppose you should work to make sure that it doesn't turn out to be true. Yeah?"

Vegeta pulled his hand free of the new hole, staring at it rather than wondering about what in the hell just happened and how he'd been completely manipulated once again. Goku was gone and that cream was still there…waiting…

It was about an hour later when he got up and about five minutes more before he broke the window with that container…after he'd applied a good bit of it to the sting that mark left.

Nothing could take the sting from his pride.

* * *

"You know it's not going to be that easy."

Goku lifted his head from where it was buried against his pillow and stared at Yamcha standing directly over him. The human was only half dressed and looked like he'd only rolled out of the bed, but his scent told a whole different story which made Goku shiver. He snorted to put it out of his mind, already pressed against the mattress and wishing it were a certain smaller saiyan too thickheaded and prideful for him to properly mate without it being conceived in all the wrong ways. Yamcha didn't tease him much to his relief, nor did he move any closer. He did smile a little in sympathy, patting Goku's shoulder gently as the larger saiyan sighed deeply to himself.

"Tell me why I decided to do this again?" he muttered tiredly. "I was doing FINE all this time…"

"You were not," Yamcha snorted. "You were practically salivating each time."

"I'm still salivating now. Thanks for not being naked."

"Consider it a grievance on my part and a favor on yours." Goku rolled his eyes at one of his oldest friends as he made himself comfortable in a chair close by. Yamcha may have looked the picture of ease and relaxation as he slouched down and tilted his head back, but he wasn't. He wouldn't be until he was sated and for the moment he'd worn his mate out.

"I can't believe you have more staying power…"

"Believe it man…I'm older, wiser, and I know how to wear him down by now."

"…this is a little disturbing."

"You started it…and we're still talking about you and your little issue." Yamcha opened an eye to spy Goku burying his head back into his pillow and resisted laughing at him. "You knew it wasn't going to be easy."

Didn't he know it? He'd told himself that the moment everything had got to hell in a hand basket. All these years of ignoring it, that scent…that sweet salivating scent that made it hard not to move and partake of it and force that little arrogant saiyan to realize the potential of being his one and only mate was maddening and a testament to what patience was. Yet this time….this time the drooling beast within him wasn't willing to sit back and let that smell tote itself around freely and blatantly; as if to say that everyone was stupid for not knowing and would never know. That may had been the case once when Goku was decidedly ignorant about things, like his wife and her controlling nature and the overall collective thought of most he knew believing him to be nothing more than a simple man with simple views. That could have been if they had remembered that he wasn't quite human and would never really be of their simple natures.

Yamcha was perhaps the only one that never really put it past him to do certain things under the radar. He'd been around the world once long before Goku had been dragged into the midst of his current world of fighting, dragon balls, and weird world dominating wannabes that were uglier every time they came. They all got the same welcome; a fist to the face and a sure promise of death. Yamcha was there to see it when it first came about and while the others were surely fooled by the outwardly carefree Goku and his nimbus, Yamcha had a different opinion that would never leave him.

It was the only reason he was sitting here now, so close to the saiyan that could easily kill him if he wanted. To know a beast, one had to respect it, and respect ran deep between the two of them since they were of the same type of beast. While Yamcha was a human without question, the beast within him was much more akin to that of a wild lion looking to sow its seed in someone worthy of him. He'd been with many a partner and had lost the one he thought could be his own to the saiyan prince currently under fire. Bulma was once a source of contention between the two and she readily acknowledged that with some smugness on her part. That only drove him to find someone else, to find his perfect one and only and to snag them by any means possible.

Goku kept a muffled laugh to himself as he thought about the outcome of Yamcha's quest. While the man was not young and had not been in quite some time, one could not properly tell from the look of him. He still looked as if he were in his mid-thirties and certainly had not lost his drive. His quest had taken him from woman to woman to woman until he accidentally landed within his best friend's son's LAP on a drunken night. Goku, well aware of his own hidden beast by then, had seen to look of revelation in Yamcha's eyes when he lifted himself from Gohan's lap. It was as if the light had turned itself on for the first time and the self-beating was rampant as he thought of several different reasons why it was a BAD idea.

Videl was one of those bad reasons. Gohan was married and had a kid for crying out loud. Any morally accepting man would have curbed his temptations and tried to find another outlet for their frustration.

Yamcha wasn't like other men and it didn't help that Gohan had gotten a rude awakening himself when he'd inhaled the other man's scent that night.

"Is she still trying to kill you?" Goku asked.

Yamcha made a little noise that was more directed towards annoyance than anything else. "She's still of the opinion that it's a phase…but she's being supportive in her strange way."

"More flags?"

"Oh my go—what is with the parade of colors?"

"She's human…and she doesn't quite GET it."

"Yeah well…let her stick around long enough. We are talking about Videl right?"

"Pfft, yeah. I think you have another ten minutes."

"Oh? Then let's get to the heart of the matter before I'm preoccupied and you do something stupid."

Ah yes, the ever present problem that was perhaps sulking in his invaded space now. Vegeta. Goku willed himself up for that one, sitting cross legged on his current bed within another section of the house that should have probably fallen by now. Bulma would have tried to tan his hide, but she wouldn't have gotten too far without losing her jaw to shock along the way. As it was, she was still a little slack jawed about all this.

"So…you've made it clear to Bulma—"

"That he's mine? Oh most definitely." That little conversation a couple of weeks prior was more than interesting, especially when she outright told him that he was out of his mind. She eventually came to understand her place though when she was met face to face with the level four saiyan still sitting beneath the exterior of Goku without actually showing up. Her face was **priceless**. "I don't see what her problem was," he said absently. "They haven't touched one another in quite some time."

"Humans believe that's normal in a marriage."

"….that's just fucking silly."

Yamcha chortled. "Glad to know you and I still speak the same language."

"From one beast to another right?" The fanged smile he got was all the answer he needed. "So…stick to the plan?"

"Yes."

The door opened itself a little more. Yamcha didn't move from where he sat. He didn't have to. Goku was more than a little fascinated to see his own son march past the open barriers of his space to get to Yamcha and plant himself on his waiting lap. It was a pretty bold move, but no less expected than the hand that reached up to yank Gohan's head backward, exposing his neck and fading mark that Yamcha moved to renew.

"I never thought I'd see the day."

Yamcha grinned against Gohan's neck. "Never say never my friend. Sometimes you have to break them a little to get them to understand…" He bit lightly, savoring the unique flavor of Gohan's skin; hands pressed into his shoulders, a soft whine telling him that there was no way Gohan could wait that much longer. Yamcha would have given him want he wanted, but he wasn't one of those people to give the father-in-law a full show. "Can you **try** not to tease him too much in the morning?"

"Who? Gohan? Pfft, I've seen worse things. He'll snap out of it once it happens."

Yamcha snorted this time, forgoing the customary eye roll and lifting himself and Gohan out of his seat. "Who says it hasn't?" Goku rarely had the opportunity to raise both brows these days at anything. This was one of those rare moments where he didn't quite know what to say. It was all in his face, and Yamcha laughed once more as he moved out of the room to take care of his mate's needs.

Goku laid himself back down on his pillow. Break them a little huh? The haughty little saiyan had been spoilt by many things, and most of it was his own fault. He could put a good bit of it on Bulma as well, but there was no use in walking down that road. He closed his eyes and resolved himself to sleep. Breaking Vegeta wasn't the hard part…it was rebuilding him that would be the true challenge.

"But…it wouldn't be worth it if it wasn't challenging at all," he smirked.

* * *

Next chapter coming soon. Seriously, it is. And...it might not be so tame. XD *runs*


	4. Rubbing one's Nose in it

**AN:**

Warnings in the first chapter as always.

It's...heating up in here. This was supposed to be...well, anyhow, I'm running before you kill me.

* * *

**Chapter 4:** Rubbing one's nose in it

* * *

"Open wide…"

Vegeta wanted to rub his eyes and blame this hallucination on lack of sleep or being jarred in the head too hard. That was more believable than the sight before him, working its way into his addled brain and keeping him mindlessly useless to anyone and anything. Because of his slack state of mind, he lost three sausages to the one and only saiyan who would dare to do that and laugh at being stabbed in the hand.

Even if he had of stabbed that hand instead of the table, it still didn't explain the reasoning being seeing Yamcha grinning around the mouthful he was given by none other than Gohan sitting in his lap. That forkful was followed by a kiss, one that was repeated with a firm tug. Gohan giggled and scooted closer, leaving little to no room between the two of them even when Gohan would feed Yamcha forkfuls of food.

"Can't you two stop sucking face long enough for the rest of us to choke this down?" Goku teased.

"If you don't like my cooking—"

"I can cook it myself," Goku interrupted. The Blue haired woman that a should have been freaking out about half of what was going on in her dining room huffed a little but ultimately deflated when Goku charged her with a look and his fork pointed in her direction. "Don't tempt me woman. Machines are machines for a reason and telling them to cook a decent meal—"

"Is not the same as cooking it myself. Yeah, yeah whatever," she sighed. "No one in their right mind would cook for you unless they were super-saiyan and could keep up with the demands."

"Well if you understand that, then next time do the work yourself. It's better than these sopping eggs," Goku quipped as he stuck his fork in what was in front of him. What he came up with was probably the soggiest sunny side eggs anyone had ever seen. Even Vegeta was a bit appalled at it, but he was so used to the food that it didn't bother him too much now, besides his mouth was unhinged from other things. Like Bulma muttering about her machines rather than smacking Goku upside the head like normal with one.

Did the world turn itself inside out last night?

Gohan couldn't answer his question even if Vegeta had asked. He wasn't inclined to, not when his head was falling to reside against Yamcha's. "When are we telling?"

"When I'm more inclined not to kill someone," Yamcha murmured. "Besides, I like having something that everyone doesn't know about."

"I bet you any amount of money that Krillin will be on the floor."

"And this is why I learned not to bet you money." He did lean up and kiss him soundly, much to his delight and Vegeta's silent disgust. "You're going to rob me blind before the nuptials."

Vegeta felt his head travel left. He closed his eyes to stop the spinning. When did all this happen anyhow?! The last time he checked, Gohan was with Videl and raising Pan and Yamcha was a freeloader that showed up whenever it was convenient for him and harboring feelings for Bulma despite all the signs pointing to what could be considered an abusive relationship. Since when did they decide to hook up, and WHY did he care anyhow?!

He aimed his sights for the table, refusing to acknowledge any part of this. In no way shape or form was he prepared to feel the heat of that mammoth moving closer to him, his heated breath over the mark that was so openly visibly to all and by no means the byproduct of a mosquito. The teeth marks were more than visible, and just as irritable as they had been when they were first placed upon his shoulder without his open permission. He could blame that on certain aspects of himself and unseen events, but now that he knew better, Vegeta tried not to stare too much into the disinterested face of the one breathing down his neck like it was no big deal. The open faced liar!

"Looks like you took my advice," Goku said quietly. Vegeta felt the prick of annoyance in his chest again but it was coupled by surprise and slight pleasure when Goku's idle hand reached behind him and fingered the spot right above where his tail should have been. "No need for it to be infected unnecessarily."

Vegeta couldn't stop the words even if he tried. "…why does that matter?"

"Because." Goku sat back a little and looked at his plate, his mouth twisting in disgust at the uneaten eggs sitting on them. "I'm not like others. Pain has a time and place."

"That usually doesn't matter…"

"Was I not clear?" Fingers danced in the air before landing on the smaller saiyan's nose to trail down slightly at tug gently at his slackened lips. "You don't get what you want or expect…and since you expect the worst…well, no need to make you haughtier that as is. Besides," he said ignoring the indignant sound that escaped Vegeta, "It's not my style. I really don't see the appeal."

Appeal?! Vegeta didn't get that chance to open his mouth wider than a soft "oh", for he was staring stupidly at Goku's face parting from his own, lips tingling and hating himself a little more for feeling as if someone had reconstructed him out of butter and hoped he wasn't going to melt again. Goku remained close enough to allow their noses to touch, that infuriating smile on his face, and the soft subtle growl that escaped finding its way into his chest as Goku said, "You get to do the dishes."

"What?!"

"And make lunch. I know your hands aren't totally useless…and you are hiding a talent you can show off. I want to see it…and I want to indulge."

What was insane feeling of being irritable and wanting to do anything to shut this oaf up? Normally things like this would have landed Goku on his face with Vegeta's fist implanted in it, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do that. He knew his secret, and more so from the look of expectancy on his face. Vegeta didn't nod or agree, but his silence was all Goku needed to hear to grin widely and leave him flushed against the table.

He put his face in his arms and didn't dare look up at Bulma staring at him. Goku didn't have a problem with it. He slipped out of his chair and headed for other parts of the house. If this wasn't confirmation enough then Bulma wasn't as much as a self-proclaimed genius after all. As such, she didn't say or do much more than leave rubbing the back of her head.

"I thought I'd never see the day," Yamcha laughed as he thought back to last night. "He's done it again…and left that woman speechless."

Speechless maybe, but not without her thoughts and possibly a fight. Vegeta had never known Bulma to back down without some type of a challenge. Normal for him was quickly becoming something other than weird and twisted and this was on the end of that scale.

This morning was a good place to blame. It was as if the moment he opened his eyes today had come spiraling in with the unwelcome weight of why he'd woken up in the first place. His sight had taken a moment to focus itself when he was pulled from his sleep, but once he could see he was assaulted with the pungent smell of Alpha permeating his space. He thought nothing of it; annoyed that Goku's smell had been on everything and that it was so strong that he woke up to it in his face, but it wasn't the source of his sudden bout of wakefulness.

"Vegeta…"

That was owed to Vegeta finding himself pinned under the actual source and unable to move past his own nature giving in to the dominant male that sought to kiss him senseless.

He still didn't understand it. He didn't understand it at all, but it was better to move and not understand rather than piss off the male saiyan that hadn't even begun to show his true colors. Without much grumbling on his part, he set to task with collecting the dishes and ruining Bulma's image of him further.

The mark on his shoulder should have done that. It still ached, but it didn't ache as much as the sting in his chest when Goku turned his attentions on his own son and ignored him completely.

* * *

"Since when?"

Goku looked up from the book he'd been nose deep in. "Since when what?"

"Since when did you decide that Vegeta was yours? How can you just waltz in here and act like this is normal when it's clearly not?!"

Goku rarely had to stare at someone to really get a good look at them, but he was compelled to stare at Bulma as she stood over him with her hands on her hips, much like she had when she was younger ad he was much smaller and naïve. However, the regulation of elders and those younger didn't register then as much as it did now, and even then it didn't quite adhere to him or seek his input. It was just there; a rule that humans tended to act upon strictly by age and who was smarter than whom. It tended to work in most situations, namely politics if anyone like Mr. Satan were to be concerned, but just because it worked for one species didn't mean it worked for all. If anything, she should have known that from their days in the wild yonder.

Her version of normal was the telltale husband and wife with a family of two or more living under the same house and possibly getting along with one another. That had been Chi-chi's dream too as well as Videl's. They had lived out those dreams well enough, but like most things those dreams had an end somewhere along the line. Some dreams ended sooner than others, and while Videl's dream had ended with a inevitable urge, it wasn't anything she'd done perse. Just like it hadn't been Chi-chi's fault and it hadn't been Bulma's fault. It was all entirely on them, their species, and this nasty little urge to get what they want when they wanted and by whatever means possible.

In this case it came a little bit later but it wasn't an urge to be ignored. It just wasn't. Humans called it greed, but for them it wasn't a matter of greed or want. It was a matter of taking what was theirs by right and not taking 'no' for an absolute answer.

She kept standing over him, expect him to do something more than stare at her. He did, but she wasn't expecting him to turn back to his book and snort in her direction. By not normal, she meant his claim on Vegeta. She meant the current duo sitting on her couch and trying their best not to be offended, though it was no fault of theirs that they were sitting there. Gohan had someplace to go to and Yamcha would follow if prompted, but who in their right mind could pass up the opportunity to stay the night? She'd offered, hoping that others aside them would stay, but Krillin had gotten his share of the nonsense and couldn't quite take much more without having a seizure. The kids, who were more than grown, had decided to go out and most likely crashed at Goten's place for the night and would be back the next morning to voice their opinions. Chi-Chi hadn't even showed up and Videl was doing her own thing…so it was just them, and her, and her having to digest the slow realization that this wasn't up for discussion.

Bulma, more than Irate, lifted her foot to plant in his backside.

Goku, more than aware, lifted his hand and stopped her by grabbing her ankle.

"You're not a stupid woman," he explained, not bothering to look up from his page. He turned another, further irking her and bringing to her attention just how much he cared about her opinion. "In fact, you're quite smart. You're so smart, that I'm sure we'll only have this discussion once…and then you'll go on with your life and find something else to do aside pursue my endeavors."

"What the—?!"

Oh right…she'd never quite seen this part of him before. Well the cat was out of the bag and there was no use in fully hiding it from her. One gold and red rimmed iris glared her way; alarming her and bringing her down a notch on the irate scale. He let go of her ankle and sat up a bit. "I'm not going to say what comes to mind, but right now you're making my assumptions null and void. Stop gaping so damn much. It's quite unbecoming."

She shut her mouth and felt her knees give way. "Goku?"

"All day, every day and yes, sitting before you. Unfortunately you're seeing the more calculating piece of my head rather than the mask humans seem to fall for." He smirked at her uneasiness. "It's not that hard to be a simple man, but a simple man is much more valuable than a stupid one. Has your mind reset itself yet, or is it still disbelieving?"

"….please tell me I'm dreaming this…"

"Pfft, if you were dreaming this, you would have found a way to wake up," Yamcha snorted from the couch he sat on. Gohan was at his side, pressed to him and unwilling to move for anything less than food or the bathroom. He was perfectly happy where he was, which involved his head in Yamcha's lap with his head being caressed much like that of a cat. Bulma was still having a hard time seeing it for herself, but it was a relationship she was more than familiar with. She had more than a year to get used to it and accept it; however, Yamcha was still Yamcha in her eyes.

At least she thought so until then when the open feral smile greeted her rather than his nonchalant demeanor. She remembered that smile…it was the smile that greeted her the first time…when she thought….

"Oh my god, you two were communicating?!" she screeched.

"From one beast to another, in a sense," Yamcha admitted. "Did you really think I would follow someone who didn't quite understand me? I may not have been your best friend, but come on…Goku **knew**."

He might have known, but that didn't mean Bulma knew or would properly accept it for what it was. Goku resigned himself to having to explain it without totally blowing her mind out of the waters and into the dessert. "I didn't take it upon myself to elaborate," he said. "At the time…I thought everyone was the same. Yamcha taught me differently. It wasn't until later when I knew something was off…and I would have been a stupid mad to let everyone know," Goku explained. Bulma still couldn't quite gather her thoughts so he kept going, mindful to keep her from going comatose. "As for the claim on Vegeta…he's always been mine. I thought I'd leave well enough alone until everyone was grown and out the way."

She pointed the accusing finger at him. "B-but—not once have you—and you still had your WIFE…"

Sad as it was, he did have her…and he hated to think of her in a sense but she'd done what she was meant to. He still loved her more than a reasonable person should and she still had some say in his life…just not where it was important. "She understood what she was getting into."

"So claiming Vegeta—"

"Was an inevitable part of who we are as saiyans. It's not just instinct Bulma. Its survival….and playtime's over."

"Playtime?! Why—"

"Why now? Well why not now? You're no longer of a breeding age…you haven't touched him in years and you've yet to do the one thing I thought someone like you could do. Simply put, I thought you'd tame him," he admitted. "I thought you'd be able to calm that restless side of his. I thought wrong. Rather than tame him, you've spoilt him…allowing him to think that he's entitled to whatever whenever because of his title."

"I most certainly do—"

"Yes, don't you? It's easier to ignore rather than to hear him, correct? Easier to give him what he wants rather than make him work for it….easier because the cold truth is that your youthful fire has waned and you can't bring yourself to ask why someone like myself and Vegeta remained as if we hadn't aged when in fact we have….inwardly anyhow."

Her slackened jaw was getting to be amusing. He risked poking at her chin, shutting it but making her angry all over again. Well, that could be remedied. "Bulma, I'm not the boy that you thought I was…and I'm not mindlessly following what comes natural to me. The temporary situation of families and who owned whom was convenient for us once, but the strange hard to swallow truth of the matter is that I am not human. Neither is Vegeta. Gohan isn't fully human and **_Yamcha_** had you fooled from day **one**."

"Just let out the secret," Yamcha complained half-heartedly.

"Wait, Yamcha isn't what now?!" she cried. "That can't be! I know he's—"

"You know him to be passive and afraid of women…and then a player from his youthful days because he couldn't commit to you." He hit the nail right on the head and it showed in her contempt from her face. She hadn't really gotten over that despite them being adults and long since over. Goku shifted his stance and leaned forward a little bit. "Bulma…you're a smart cookie. It shouldn't take you long to figure this out without me saying it."

"I'd like to keep my five minutes, thanks," Yamcha snorted. "Simply put…I'm more animal than human. I take what I want in the necessity of the moment and sometimes what I want isn't what I need."

"B-but all those…women…"

"Kept me from realizing what I wanted." He smiled down at Gohan pushing his head further into his touch, completely at ease rather than up in arms about whatever they were talking about. She'd never seen that uptight man so relaxed in her life, not even with his wife which as of a week ago was now considered his ex. Yamcha let his free hand splay itself over Gohan's resting comfortably over his stomach, the gleam of his ring more that obvious and not the one he wore when he married Videl. She nearly commented on it, but her thoughts were back on Goku sitting before her as if this were the most normal thing on this planet.

Goku, for his part, tilted his head just enough to cause a tilt in hers before he said as bluntly as he could, "Vegeta isn't a play thing. He's more than you can fathom…and whether you like it or not, he's more than ready to properly mate."

"But you just got finished telling me—"

"He's spoiled. And he is. He's stronger than he thinks, and possibly the smartest one I know…but lying to him, letting him think the lie is truth and not telling him what he really needs to know isn't helping him. He's avoided being dominated this long because of his association with fear…and letting him continue to believe that his has ample rights to things his given out of pity doesn't help him. It hinders him and makes him less than what he is. Oh sure, we can play this game and pretend that it's all just a phase, but it's a mark in our evolution and I'm not going to let a prize like him escape me now that I understand."

"And what's there to understand that I can't?!"

"That side you can't and will never satisfy. He's not going to let you…not unless you're willing to break him." He shut her jaw again. "Listen, He's not yours. He never was. Soak that into your mind and realize that arguing this further is not going to end well for anyone."

That was the end of that. Well it was actually over when the subtle cracking of the floor where Goku's tail was finally reached her ears.

What he wasn't going to tell her was that he was broken already…but in the wrong way. It was probably going to take longer than he wished but egging Vegeta out of his comfort zone was almost impossibility not worth the effort…to most.

He wasn't most people. He never had been and sadly, Bulma realized the harsh reality of being blind to the obvious.

Vegeta slipped away from where he'd been pressed against the closed door, more than a little shocked to realize just how little he knew about the overgrown oaf.

* * *

The prospect of lunch…to eat or not to eat? The was the question and ultimately the answer was to feed. Vegeta had been charged with lunch and feeding it to the masses, but that didn't mean he had to by no means enjoy one step of the process even if he gave a little flip to something. It landed the way it was supposed to in a pan and he instantly blamed television and having too little to do in his spare time. There was training, and training some more, but who really wanted to cause themselves that much injury and be indebted to someone else for the care provided?

Human were weird creatures, creatures that didn't have too much of a backbone. Hand on the skillet and the other on his waist; he thought back to his eavesdropping and how easily Bulma had dropped her ball and then some.

She really wasn't too much a line of defense in his corner anyhow. She was fiery about things, and she definitely had a say within the known pieces of his life she knew about offhand. Those parts were best not thought about openly and he tended not to dwell on something unless it was in his face and demanding an answer. Minor things…things he could ignore and possible live without. She ran her life how she saw fit and if they fit in it, then all was well with the world. He didn't have to hear what she had to bitch about and she left him alone to do his own thing without fear of unnecessary reprimand.

There was a twinge of open flare against his backside when Goku's words came back to haunt him.

"….I'm not afraid…."

"Aren't you?"

He was glad for reaching and turning off the stove. Vegeta otherwise would have spun and spilled something all over the floor. He did spin, distracted from his task and soon pressed against the counter with his back flush against the edge and his front bombarded with the weight that wanted to press into him. As it was, he was trapped between two arms on either side of him, both unwilling to move themselves or allow Vegeta out of their potential hold. It left the body they were connected to hovering over him, close but not close enough, which only left him confused and disconcerted.

Whatever he could say was stalled with the fain brush of their noses, the soft breath from the one above him a hair away from doing what Vegeta feared.

"You still think I'm open to that appeal?"

Again with that word. What did he mean? It wasn't appeal it was second nature to them and it was best to get it over with and resolve one's self to humiliation. He readied himself, or tried, but nothing came of it.

Goku, amused by the display, reached upward and pawed at Vegeta's head. "You've been brainwashed."

"I have not!"

"Oh but you have. It's almost worth going into Hell just to work that bastard over and give him what for…but at this point in the game what point is there?"

Vegeta growled. Goku laughed. He loved closer, restricting that space and him. "It's only second nature to play with the one I want," he smirked. "To see if he'll let me play and to find pleasure in play…but if he's not willing to understand his own nature, how can I convince him that it's perfectly all right?"

There was no time to think. No time to process what was happening. Vegeta could only go with it, pulled until he was flush against Goku, facing the wall and shivering at the sure touch of a lover that knew what he was doing. He was unsure of how or when or why Goku did this, but his body could care less when that powerful hand slid itself alongside his waist beneath his shirt, warmth startling him as did the soft wisp of air on his neck.

"Your views….everything that you know…you've been told of the horror." Warm digits dug into the sculpted groves, finding purchase and making it hard to leave their comfort despite their alien feel. No one had ever touched him with such sure hands; no one had ever taken the time to map the side of him with just their fingers and nothing more. The other hand joined in, smoothing its way upward and gently brushing against a hardening nipple. He bit his lip, not wanting to be heard.

Goku's smirk molded itself to the side of his neck, lips melding against the soft skin their and having their fill. Vegeta felt his head move to accommodate that soft touch, hands nearly turning to glass against the counter as he forced himself to remain on guard. This could not end well…it never did…

"I'm not your enemy." The hands on him still, the weight against him heave by unmoving. The soft breath on his neck moved to his ear. "I don't exploit what you need…I give you want you need."

"You're fucking lying…."

"Am I?"

The sharp sting of flesh meeting flesh kept him from remarking too much. He hadn't worn too much this afternoon, resolved to the kitchen and the unbearable ventilation system and heat he could live without. The thin fabric of his shorts allowed him to feel Goku's hand against his hip with the sudden heat from that stinging blow that only launched him forward a little as it was rubbed once…twice…again before the same pop had him yelping behind his lips and wondering.

He was never going to openly admit that he was admittedly turned on. Goku could feel that for himself with his curious hand sliding over Vegeta's thigh and cupping him gently. Vegeta tensed, eyes watering from the invisible pain but there was nothing harmful to that touch.

"You like being felt up…being put on display…" A soft kiss followed, this one lower and almost bruising from the bite that followed the line of licking kisses that ended at the edge of his shoulder. He never thought that could be more than another spot to hurt somewhere down the line. Goku's lips lingered on the very edge, curling as his hand found a tighter grip on their prize and tugged. "You like knowing that other people know…"

"You're not….going to…Fuck!"

"No. I'm not….but I'm going to do one better."

* * *

*runs away* I can't help it!

More soon. :)


	5. Wants and Needs

**AN:**

Okay, so I take full responsibility for what I did before...and what I'm about to do now.

The first part is...um...well...you've read my stuff before and if you haven't you REALLY, REALLY, need to read the warnings in the first chapter. LIKE...REALLY.

All righty then. Don't say I didn't WARN you~~!

* * *

**Chapter 5: **Wants and Needs

Lewd. His name should be lewd.

Vegeta thought about this once he was sure that his heart wouldn't pop out of his chest and that he hadn't found a perverse version of heaven mixed in hell.

His legs were jello; his knees butter. His feet had no purchase on the ground and he slid with his face against the glass of the oven, his breath fogging up the image of him bent over and the one behind him rising to lick his lips. There was a mess beneath him, one he didn't care about as much as the mess he was. That could be cleaned up…but this…he…

Vegeta lifted his face just enough to fall forward again, his tongue against his teeth and his hands keeping him from making an impression of his cheek. He felt the warmth of that body against him, but there wasn't the pressure he was expecting, almost dreading or hoping for. There was only that teasing touch, the one that had nearly undone him the first time and again when he'd been writhing on the floor screaming into his arms and biting his wrist in an effort not to give in.

But like most things, everything came to an end…and his end had him seeing the blinding white of nirvana and then again when Goku hadn't let up and feasted until he was more than content with the mess he made on the floor and of Vegeta. He kissed the back of his damp neck, his fingers gently spreading him open and rubbing the oversensitive hole still dripping in time to the subtle aftershocks of orgasm. Vegeta shivered, nearly collapsing, but the arm around his waist pulling him to sit back kept him from it.

He sat back all right…his head nearly falling on Goku's shoulder until he thought better of it. Everything was coming back into sharp focus, including this long unfelt surge of embarrassment that kept his cheeks red and him squirming as those slick fingers danced between his legs again. He didn't think he could take much more without passing out…

"How long has it been?" The soft tenor voice rumbled in his ears and he shifted, unable to move away even as his unease grew. From what, he did not know, but it wasn't blatant fear from violence. There was none to be had in that hold, nothing signifying that this was all one big ploy in order to lay him on his face as he was fucked mercilessly and left to bleed wherever. That touch was gentle, teasing, and curious as to just what sounds it could make as was the Saiyan that owned that touch and slipped his finger through the slickness into the satin heat that wanted to grip that digit as it slid in and out slowly.

Vegeta's head fell backward this time, the nature of whom he was taking over and pushing into that touch; hips moving without care for where they were. The voice near his ear laughed; Vegeta felt it in his back before it radiated in his chest with his thundering heart. "How long as it been since someone's touched you like this…the way you want?" That finger stilled itself, slipping loose with that honey and circling the overly sensitized hardened clit that made it hard to sit still. That finger stopped circling, pressing, moving upward until it slipped past the slick folds and headed toward the beginnings of the flared head of his cock still hard and dripping but covered in the evidence of his release. "You taste heavenly…feel like silk…I can't wait until you'll let me…"

The unsaid words were enough to make his spine go numb and for everything to clench and release and leave him gasping as he grabbed Goku's forearms and trembled from the force of his third orgasm in the last fifteen minutes. It didn't take much…it never took much, but the right elements…how had that bastard figured it out?!

Goku smiled against his ear, nipping it. "I'm sure you'd like to know."

For spite's sake and to make Vegeta's cheeks stay red just a little longer, Goku licked his fingers clean. He took his time, savoring that unique flavor, and was more than tempted to do it again…if he wasn't really hungry.

"Lunch smells good," he remarked grinning down at the smaller appalled saiyan. "I hope it tastes as good."

Vegeta fought not to inwardly implode when he remembered where they were. He scrambled out of Goku's embrace and to his feet, nearly falling as his body still hadn't quite gotten over the shock of coming so hard in quite some time. Goku stood behind him, helping him to the counter with one good lift, and slapped his bare ass as he moved to wash up for lunch. "We'll finish desert later," he promised.

Goku left, and Vegeta waited until he was sure he was gone before he fell to the floor, pushing his overheated cunt to the cool floor and savoring the unfamiliar feel of being boneless.

He wasn't aware of Gohan lingering in the archway, glancing back at Yamcha staring with memories of them flickering in his eyes. Yamcha silently moved them from view, promising to relive those moments later on in the day when they had a little more privacy.

* * *

"Lunch is…where in the hell did you order this?!"

Vegeta didn't bother to shrug. He was too busy trying not to blush, sitting at an angle and in the general direction of Goku currently licking his fingers free of sauce. Blame him for making BBQ ribs, but damn it if Goku didn't make a show of cleaning himself off.

One finger between his lips, he wrapped his tongue around that digit and sucked silently.

Vegeta knew his cheeks were on fire. He felt it and he refused to fall for the open bait. If he squirmed a little no one called him on it, despite the uncomfortable feeling of wetness between his legs and his sudden wish for something cold to drink.

Bulma was too busy trying to understand and backtrack when and where she'd allowed this to commence without noticing it. Goku was completely flirting with Vegeta and Vegeta was trying his best to ignore the open innuendo, which was rather hard to do the way Goku kept licking at his fingers. She herself was quite uncomfortable, though it was more because of her brain going places that it should not go and her wondering if the unsaid suggestions were as good as they looked. The more daring analytical side wanted to call Chi-chi and ask, but where was that going to get her other than frustrated and wondering why in the hell it had been so long since…well, dammit all…

She huffed, stuffing a piece of broccoli in her mouth. Trying to figure it out was giving her a headache just as much as watching Yamcha and Gohan reenact their little stint this morning.

Yamcha didn't have Gohan in his lap feeding him. Instead he was making sure that Gohan's plate was full and that the younger half saiyan wasn't reaching for anything other than his water. Even that got refilled the moment it was low without his asking. It almost looked like servitude or someone being in the doghouse and begging for forgiveness through attentiveness, but that was not the case. It was a case of a new role being filled in their lives and Yamcha doing his best to make sure no stone was left unturned. Gohan finally made the overzealous idiot sit beside him, smiling like an idiot and sharing soft kind kisses between mouthfuls. It was almost as sickening as breakfast...almost.

Vegeta tried not to huff in their direction. Seriously…they acted like new mates…

"It'll be you soon enough," Goku assured.

Like hell. It was going to take a lot of convincing and nothing short of being strapped to the bed for him to even think of considering what those two have done. Vegeta was sure of it, but Goku was also sure in his words, which made him shudder in a not so nice way.

"I give it a year," Yamcha mentioned lightly. "I don't think he's ready just yet."

"I know he's not ready," Goku said. "If he was…well, lunch would be a lot later than it was."

"Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?!" Vegeta snapped.

"Because in a sense you're not." Goku looked at him sideways, licking his thumb a little and eying the mark on Vegeta's shoulder. "Just because you have my mark doesn't mean anything…while it means you're mine physically, you're not mine wholly until you've given yourself to me…"

"But you—"

"I had to coerce you into your natural self. When you naturally given yourself to me without my coercion, and when you've figured out where you stand without defaulting to a title that's been dead for decades, then you will have some clout in any and all conversations."

It was like getting the wind knocked out of one's sails and watching the boat sink without knowing what to do. He spelled it out without preamble, blunt and taciturn to the point where Vegeta felt the sting past his pride and onto the little bit of soul that he'd maintained through the years. He didn't know what irritated him more: knowing that Goku was right or that because of his status, Gohan had more clout and power than he did. It was the way things worked in a pack like theirs; the way things fell because of Goku's status and there was no way to deny it or avoid what was coming. Vegeta held his tongue, looking away from Goku and ignoring the soft look of sorrow directed at him.

He rubbed his chest and got up, opting to find somewhere else to be.

Goku watched him leave and ducked before he could be slapped in the head by Bulma. "That wasn't CALLED for!" she snapped, picking up the napkin holder and slamming it against his head before he could properly move. Goku winced at the force behind it, rubbing the sure knot that would form as Bulma stood over him seething. "How can you dismiss him like that!?"

"The same way he dismisses the world unless it acknowledges him," he answered tiredly. "I'm not dismissing him because I can…I'm dismissing him because he needs to be dismissed. Giving him what he wants is different from what he needs…and right now, he doesn't get what he **wants**."

That meant a lot of things, and that included the urge to go after him and soothe Vegeta's troubled mind. It didn't mesh well with the dominant side he'd adopted whole heartedly and it wasn't going to do much more than confuse the slightly older but smaller saiyan. This wasn't as easy for him as he pretended to be, though getting hit like that wasn't part of the overall plan. She was still mad, and she could stay mad. He didn't care. He did grab that napkin holder though and crush it between his fingers, causing her to sputter indignantly.

"Bulma." She turned and clicked her teeth together, staring heatedly at Yamcha who looked like he was staring at something amusing. This wasn't a laughing matter! "Stop it already. You've spoilt him enough. He's got to learn to find some humility before he can properly walk aside Goku."

"But—"

"If he can't bow his head, how can he stand against those who wish to do him true harm? Pride only takes a person so far…but that goes hand in hand with humility. There is a balance…and all Goku is trying to do is teach him that. Of course," he said snickering a bit as Gohan rested against his side, "Vegeta is a stubborn creature. It will probably take many lessons…some a little harsher than others."

Goku nodded in acknowledgement, tossing the ruined napkin holder over his shoulder. "I'm not trying to psychologically mess him up. Frieza already did that," he grumbled none too pleased. "He's forgotten his instincts. He's gone from on the edge to integrating with us, to being left to his own devices. As much as he boasts about being a prince, he's forgotten what it's like to be a saiyan."

"Oh, and suddenly you're an expert?" Bulma snapped. "I seem to remember a certain someone growing up with the rest of us humans and thinking he was one until a certain brother of his interrupted his life."

"True enough…but come on Bulma," Goku sighed, "I knew I was different. I had a tail."

"But that doesn't mean you know how to be a saiyan."

"And that is where you're wrong."

She opened her mouth to argue, but this time Gohan stopped her from saying anything. "Fusion has a perk that benefits both sides in ways that they don't realize until later," he said. "Do you ever wonder why Goten and Trunks are so close without being closer? They know one another inside and out…as do my father and Vegeta. My father tends to embrace change…some of us are a little slow to do so."

That got a pleasant look out of Yamcha. She didn't understand why until she thought about how long Yamcha had chased Gohan down before the younger man had given in with both hands raised. Both feet, too. It was a memory she'd smothered somewhere in her brain and it came racing back with that smug look on Yamcha's face and the content one on Gohan's. Yeah, that was the last time she left them unattended at one of her parties.

"That only proves that he doesn't know as much as he thinks," she argued turning to Goku. "You only got that information by fusing with him. If he doesn't remember, what makes you qualified to determine how he's supposed to act?"

"It's an imprinted trait," Goku said. "One I would have known even if I had not fused with him."

"Oh? How's that?"

"Because—"

"He's an ALPHA, Bulma…one that can easily sit here and stare you down the throat until you say the wrong thing, and then you'll be looking at a level four saiyan trying NOT to rip your throat out."

Bulma partially expected that to come from the men before her, but she wasn't expecting it to come from the one woman she thought would make herself scarce around here since her former husband was known to linger in her house. She turned, caught between wanting to jump and wanting to make sure that world war three didn't break loose with her in the middle. Bulma tensed, waiting for someone to leap to their feet or for harsh words to fly, or for something to break, but none of that happened in the four tense seconds that washed over them as if it had been an hour.

Goku, no longer engrossed with eating, eyed Videl sideways. "Took you long enough to get here."

"I was BUSY," Videl huffed. "I do have a life outside of this you know."

"Since when does that matter?"

She would have rolled her eyes but she thought better of it when that single eye staring at her had a golden ring around it. "Since never…"

"Good. I need you to run some errands for me. I have something I need to take care of today."

"Something to—wait, are you—Oh god…I'm shutting up."

The sudden slice of his tail cutting through the air had Bulma stuck to her spot. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and replaced with fire and an oppressing sense of gravity that made it hard to move. She fought to breathe for a second, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Yamcha had straightened himself out and Gohan had pressed his face into his shoulder, near shivering but not quite there. The hand wrapped around his waistline kept him from it. Videl quickly lowered her eyes and fought not to fidget. Bulma couldn't quite bring herself to ask what the girl had done to warrant such submissive behavior.

"S-sorry…" Videl stammered. "I forgot…My apologies!"

Goku shook his head and dismissed his ire. "…just try and get that stuff done today. I really don't want to have to hunt him down and make him sorry for not listening to me in the first place."

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

"No. You want some food? Vegeta made it."

"Vegeta made—oh, this I have to taste!"

She was at the table and sitting next to Goku like nothing happened. For his part, Goku went back to making merry and eating, no longer licking his fingers obscenely but singing high praises for the food in front of them. Everyone readily agreed, moving onto other subjects and topics while Bulma stood frozen and staring at them as if she'd been watching a scene out of some twisted movie.

When had she failed to notice everything? When had everyone slid into this strange hierarchy where Goku was top man and nothing was as it seemed? Since when was she supposed to lie back and let Goku take hold of what had been hers for decades and not be upset about it?! Why was she even allowing it in her home!?

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. It must have shown on her face because Yamcha looked up and shook his head sharply.

"Don't worry, Bulma," Goku said, startling her enough to knock her back three steps. "I'm not going to be here forever…just long enough to collect what I need. You can have your home back soon enough."

"Wait…what do you mean by that?!"

"What it sounds like."

"Who do you think you are—"

That pressure was back again. The finger she thrust at him and her words stopped midway and left her dumbfounded as she stared at the sudden image of Goku becoming that red-haired menacing level four without leveling a single thing. One moment he was normal Goku with food near his mouth, the next he was some smug beast with a tail that liked to lash back and forth in irritation. The gold rings around his eyes had become red, the gold settled in the middle and on her as she dropped her hand and fought to close her mouth.

"Bulma, I'm a simple person who doesn't ask for much in this life," Goku said rather softly. He didn't need to shout or yell or smash anything to intimidate her. It was all in that gaze, the one that had her somehow looking at the floor several seconds after she'd felt her heart leap into her throat. "A simple person with simple needs…and those needs are different from the wants. Believe me, Bulma…if I wanted someone else I still would not be satisfied. I need someone who is compatible with me, and I need him to understand what he needs more than what he wants."

Somewhere within her shivering frame, that spark of unwillingness to bend let her speak. "But you can't just **take** him. I won't—"

"If you were a saiyan, Bulma…I'd fight you and win….but you're not." That made her flinch and he was a little sorrow he'd said it. A little. "You're a human female who has earned my respect for what you've done throughout the years…but I'm not quite human Bulma. I think…I've spoiled you into thinking too lightly of me…I think now I should have enlightened you around the time we fought Buu…"

"Has it been that long?" Videl mused.

"Doesn't seem like it," Yamcha said softly. "Feels like forever…"

"What are you two talking about?" Bulma asked. "What do you mean you should have enlightened me back then? What are you—"

"Bulma…Goku came back a lot different than you think," Videl said, turning to face her. "He came back damaged, but…regressing to being a child and relearning things he'd suppressed…it unleashed the Alpha male in him when he grew up again. It was around then…that…oh, can I tell her?"

Goku nodded gently. "Sure."

Bulma was confused more now than she had been three minutes ago. "What are you talking about?!"

"The fact that when he came back, he…might have…done some marking." Videl lightly covered her shoulder, a little pink in the cheeks but no more embarrassed than Yamcha scratching the side of his nose or Gohan trying not to blush any more than he had. Bulma still didn't get it, that is until she saw Videl peel her shirt over her right shoulder revealing a scar that looked too much like that mark on Vegeta's neck. "He had us gathered at his place…every one of us…and he said from that point on he was in charge. We thought he was kidding…well, I did…until he changed and bit every last one of us in the same spot."

"It's a sign of ownership," Yamcha explained. "He did it to me a long while back…way before. He had some understanding of what it meant but when he came back, he really understood. We're his pack…his family…and he's in charge. No question."

"….and..w-where…was I?" Bulma asked a little frightened of the answer. "I don't…recall…"

Goku turned his eyes from her. "I didn't invite you."

Didn't invite her? She didn't know if she should be relieved or…or…"…why?" Why did that hurt so damn much? He just admitted to biting everyone, to claiming ownership of everyone which within itself was hard to swallow, so not being invited to such a thing should have been good right? "W-why didn't…you…invite me?"

"It's really quite simple." It was so simple that Videl turned her face into her hands in embarrassment, a little mortified for Bulma in her own way. "You were a rival. Besides, I would never force you to hand what I believed to be mine over in such a manner. I decided that it would be better for everyone to just…live their lives…until life changed them to understand."

"…changed…them?"

"Yes." He looked directly at Videl and then at Yamcha silently fussing over Gohan still settled in his comfortable embrace. "Life works the way it wants to, not the way we want it. I decided to let life do its thing, and in time it settled some things and brought about new ideas and realities. I thought it was best to let everyone remain as they were…oblivious to me and immersed in their own issues…and with time, things worked out like this. Yamcha found what he was looking for in my son. My son found what he'd been missing unknowingly. Videl found out that her father is an ass and that being married to a saiyan isn't something just anyone can do. They have to be chosen…and she was chosen for a brief time."

"It's true…" Videl admitted quietly. "I was chosen…and for that he gave me Pan…but then, sometimes dealing with Gohan is like dealing with Goku…he does what he wants and wants what he wants." She didn't wince as Goku put his hand on her head. She seemed saddened by the touch, leaning into it as if she'd never feel it again. "He was a good husband, but…I didn't have everything it took to satisfy that nature he was born with. I…it took me a while to understand…but forcing someone to do what you expect of them is like forcing them to deny themselves."

"And…just…where does Vegeta fall in all this?" Bulma questioned. "Where…do you get off thinking that…I'm your rival when I've been your friend for longer than I care to admit? Why didn't you…think I would…understand?!"

"Because you're having a hard time with it now, and face it Bulma, you're a lot more docile now than before," Yamcha answered. "Vegeta doesn't quite know what to do with himself on his own. He's always been on his own. His only line of defense is to take before someone else does and give in when he's beaten down. We basically brow beat him into what he is now."

"A spoiled saiyan prince who doesn't know the difference between what he wants and what he needs," Goku sighed. "One who wants the pleasure of killing me all to himself, and unknowingly declaring himself my one and only…quite the conundrum. And then there was the little issue of him asking me NOT to bite you."

Bulma's eyes went wide with shock. "He asked you not to—?! He was there?!"

"Oh most definitely. He doesn't remember though…"

"Why would he not remember that?!"

"…Because," he said, his stern face slipping into a small wistful smile, "I spoiled him too much."

* * *

He couldn't stop his ears from ringing. It was this long high pitched squealing type noise that just was when there was nothing more than silence to be heard. Even silence had a sound. It had a lonely annoying sound that was like a soft buzz that wouldn't quiet no matter how much he tried to tune it out. He'd lain with that sound for countless hours, staring at the same spot on the wall and blinking when his eyes would start to water, just sitting, listening; willing himself not to think.

But…the thoughts always came. The ones that were waking nightmares and left him restless, left him itching to do more than lie there and stare at the same spot in the wall, the one that now had a fist sized hole in it. He gently ran his fingers over the damage and felt the remnants of yesterday flare up in his belly, his actions unacceptable and unworthy of…that title.

No respectable person of royalty would let something like a little fear keep him down.

He kept telling himself this, feeling the hype of his words and wondering if he could find it within himself to stick those thoughts and beliefs to his frame this time. Could he very well roll around in those haughty thoughts and words, wrap himself in the bullshit and actually make himself believe for once in his fucking life that any of it mattered? Who was Goku to tell him that it was nonsense?! Who was he to declare that he had no clout?!

Why did it fucking hurt so damn much?!

"It hurts because you don't want to hear it…and you don't know how to let go."

He hadn't heard him come close. He'd shut his ears the moment he'd heart Goku's quiet admission of spoiling him too much, not knowing why his chest blossomed with pain or why he felt water on his face. He'd come to this room…this quiet room where that buzz was and hadn't moved for what seemed like moments when it was hours. Tuning the world out came so easy. It was so easy when people didn't care what he thought or did. As long as he was within the limits they had set, he was free to do whatever he wanted whenever. Such freedoms were luxurious and worth the moments where he had nothing more to do than breathe…

"Vegeta…"

"….what?" He didn't look at Goku. He kept his unseeing gaze on that wall and went through the motions of being the arrogant ass he remembered more so than anything else he could have been once. "I'm spoiled remember? Spoiled goods have no reason to talk or to exist…so why you're paying me any mind is unreal…"

"I'm paying you mind because your existence means something." Vegeta felt something in him twist, and he realized belatedly that it was the inside of his chest. In true saiyan style, Goku met him head on with a threat. "I aim to prove that to you, by killing this thing you've become."

Breathing hurt. Seeing hurt. Living day to day without knowing if he'd wake up to that damning existence…to know it was all gone and there was only one left…one of his own, one who understood more than he let on and was willing to let his mask sit in place for the sake of other people?! What right did he have to tell him anything when he himself was a lie!? He said that, screamed it, rammed that question into the wall with his fists and kept asking until those hands grabbed hold of his bleeding fists and shoved them down between the two of them. Vegeta didn't have it in him to fight after that…but he couldn't quite vanish like he wanted. The silence was encompassing and it was so tempting to let to take over, to tune it all out again, but Goku kept him here, aware, and listening to the soft sounds of his breathing as he fought not to be angry.

"I am…what people make me to be in their eyes," he said softly, his anger clear and suffocating. Vegeta thought it would burn him alive, but he found himself engulfed by those arms and held as if he were worth being known as precious. "I am what they believe…but that does not define me. I define myself…and…I will shatter this thing…and define you…or rather, you will define yourself."

He felt like he should punch this asshole in the face and spit upon the lies that came out of it. At least, one voice screamed it and it sounded oddly enough like the white and purple freak that haunted his dreams without trying. Vegeta lifted his weary head, his ears still reaching for the silence…but he found it filled with his own screams as he thought about the many screams he'd kept to himself and those he'd endured the day everything was swept from under his feet.

He fell and Goku fell with him, holding him like he wanted…and needed for longer than he wanted to remember.

* * *

All right...started off kind of nose bleed-ish...and ended with tears...somewhat.

Good effort! *pats self on the back*

Now...you all probably have questions and I am to never answer them without a proper bribe. ^-^ I am a little evil. Just wait until the real show starts! WOOHOO! SEX!

(this is the most action I get these days. T-T; It's so sad.)


	6. Listless

So...I don't have too much to say up here.

*holds her nose* I think the beginning of the last one still gives me nosebleeds.

Anyhow, onward yeah?

* * *

**Chapter 6:** Listless

His eyes hurt.

They felt a little less severe than being beaten in the same spot repeatedly but they hurt nonetheless. He thought about keeping them closed, but the comfortable weightlessness of sleep had left him lying here on something a little hard, warm, and moving. He twitched, an instinctive move to see if he'd been injured more than he though, but his brain fired off that he hadn't quite been in a fight other than with the wall last night and the night before. His knuckles didn't sting. In fact they were a little stiff if anything. He lifted his right hand and found it bandaged neatly, tied off with a little bow that looked a little too much like some woman had done it. He didn't remember much more than blacking out…screaming…warmth…and then that dreamless sleep that he thought would elude him until the end of his days.

He wanted to go back there. Back to sleep and just rest. He might have if not for the sudden movement of that hard something he'd been lying on moved. He didn't open his eyes. He couldn't quite make himself. Everything was just so heavy right now.

"You're going to have to get up," he heard. "Today's a new day."

A new day? That voice held such promise it in. It was like that one moment he'd allowed himself some time ago, where he'd sat and watched a new day come into fruition and spent the morning contemplating the meaning of his life here and now. People didn't think he did that, but he did and he did it a little too often for his liking. This morning was like that with him unable to move much more than to sigh and wonder if it was worth getting up, but that voice didn't leave him like so many others would have. It moved to the side of his ear, humming softly as gentle callused fingers caressed the mark between his shoulder and his neck.

"You're going to feel listless for some time, but you have to fight it as much as you can," he heard. "It's how you move forward…how you move on."

Vegeta sighed again, wondering at the value of those words. He thought about ignoring them, but their pull was unmistakable as was the gentle kiss lain upon his lips dried with tears. He opened his eyes then, everything a blur for a moment. It didn't matter. He was shutting his eyes again as that voice stirred him, moved him further into awareness and just where he was.

"You lying here is too tempting…and if you don't get up I might do something…to satisfy my sudden urge to devour you."

And just like that, everything came into sharp focus and left him nose to nose with that cheeky son of a bitch Goku still holding him somehow without openly molesting him. That grin was always infuriating, as was the carefree attitude that didn't care for much more than the simple things in life. Simple. Vegeta found himself sighing again, glaring halfheartedly at that mouth. Simple was Goku's weapon of choice, and it worked so well that he'd managed to do more in his short life than some of the greater people he'd known on his planet. He didn't have to conquer a nation to get their respect and their loyalty and he truly didn't have to do much to make someone back down. It was all in the shock value of his actions and his attitude, which had always thrown Vegeta for a loop.

Perhaps had be paid more attention—no. He wouldn't have seen it. He would not have seen this analytical side of Goku in anything the taller saiyan did or said. Goku didn't want anyone to see it. Not aloud.

"I don't understand you," Vegeta said softly. His throat was drier than he believed it to be and he owed that hoarseness to his screaming last night. "Why…would you want…spoiled goods?"

"You're not spoiled…not in that way," Goku said quietly. His grin died and that solemn face appeared, pinning Vegeta in his prostrate state and locking their gazes. "Damaged yes, but scars are what you make of them. Are you going to let the past become some ugly never healing scar, or are you going to look at it like this?"

The soft fingers on his face moved and prodded him in a spot directly over his heart. He froze and sank, unable to keep himself from trembling as the heat of that scar burned him again. It hadn't taken much to take him out…he'd fought until he couldn't fight anymore and then it was nothing but blinding white hot pain before he was on the ground, staring at darkness, begging Goku to lose that damn humanity of his and kill that bastard. He had no right to ask him that, to beg someone he was supposed to kill or be killed by to do his work…and it wasn't him that influenced the change…

Vegeta moved closer, burying his face into the strong scent of Goku. "When did it all change like this?" he murmured. "When…did…everything turn itself inside out?"

"Who knows?" Goku moved his hand from that scar up to that mark on his neck, pressing it softly and letting Vegeta feel the warmth of his hand and the lingering sting of that wound. "We're not going to live like this…buried in lies to deny what we are; who we are. We're going to get up, we're going to move forward, and we're not going to the other realm to beat the shit out of everyone that's pissed me off for doing you harm."

"…why not?"

"Because I did that a week ago. I wonder if they've finished collecting all of that freak's parts..."

He was partially kidding, but the result was worth the small subtle smile on that tired face moving to look up at him. Goku was sure they hadn't found every part yet, not when he'd spread them to the far corners of hell and left Frieza's tail in the possession of a certain hound. He had been feeling particularly mean that day, of course that day being shortly after parting from Vegeta years ago and seeing for himself just how damaged the saiyan was from the inside out. Anyone would be after dealing with half of the shit that Vegeta had been through, including the death of all he knew and loved and being bound unwillingly to a higher force that was abusive as it was manipulative in all fields. Emotionally, Physically, and Mentally.

Their noses touched, and while Goku was inclined to do what he felt was natural, he didn't. He left the option open to Vegeta, not expecting much more that his soft breathing to touch his lips and for him to lie quietly as he let his body readjust to the sensation of being lighter. While docile living had helped, it inadvertently made the smaller saiyan tame and spoiled in a manner that made his loneliness and pain much more obvious to those who watched. Last night had probably been the first time he'd allowed himself to let go and erupt, and Goku really didn't want to frighten him back into his defensive state by doing something so forward after last night. It was never pleasant waking to know that the person thought of as a rival had seen a vulnerable side thought to be hidden away. That had been the basic problem before and Goku had left him alone then as well, but it was impossible to do that now.

Vegeta didn't move…at first. After a moment of hesitation, he scooted closer, raising his mouth to the corner of Goku's and lightly connecting the two. It was a sign of acceptance rather than defeat and Goku couldn't have been happier or more relieved. He gathered the smaller saiyan into his arms, holding him from the light of day and covering him his scent, his strength, and his protective embrace. "You're stronger than you honestly give yourself credit for," he said quietly. "You're not going backwards again. You're moving forward with me…and I promise I will do all I can to help you stand with or without me."

Vegeta closed his eyes and let the silent lull of this strange piece of his new universe take hold of his awareness. He drifted with the feel of Goku's lips against that mark, the gentle sting like his scent and his presence: always there and always encompassing.

* * *

"I love you."

Gohan turned his head in time to feel and see Yamcha wrapping himself around his shoulders, kissing the side of his head and resting comfortably against him. He was always saying that. Gohan, for his part never tired of hearing it. It made his heart thunder in a way he hadn't felt since he was a teen, when the thought of Videl had plagued his every waking moment and left him unsure of how to make her his. However, this feeling…this intense feeling of elation, the urge to be close, the thought of this weight against him, holding him, loving him, cherishing all that he was and feeding into his natural urges…he was unable to see past it and shuddered at the thought of never having found it.

"Cold?"

"No," Gohan said, moving to turn into that embrace and fall to lie on the couch with Yamcha still holding him. "Just an unpleasant thought."

"None of those," Yamcha chided. "I want you comfortable."

"…then…don't leave me alone." Gohan buried his face into Yamcha's shoulder, sighing as he tried not to think about the silent weight of what plagued their minds without others knowing. "I know it doesn't feel strange this time…but it frightens me."

There was no patronizing caress or words of condolence. Yamcha's arms folded themselves folded around Gohan, holding him tightly as a momentary wave of grief and protectiveness washed over the twosome. Gohan felt the pressure of that moment in his chest, clenching all he was and pricking tears from his eyes for a short moment. They were wiped away quickly by Yamcha's sure hand, the one that held his face and kept their heads together as he freely and openly allowed them to acknowledge what happened without feeling ashamed. Yamcha was never ashamed about it, never tried to hide it, and Gohan didn't understand how someone could be quite that strong without losing it somewhere along the line.

But Yamcha had lost it. He'd grieved so deeply at the unexpected joy and loss of their first unborn child that Gohan had feared he'd be desolate for months if not years.

It was purely accidental. They had not meant for it to happen, but Gohan's body had changed and adapted as it was his saiyan blood adjusting to the role he'd taken on in his later years in life. When it was he and Videl, being masculine, the male, the dominant one of the household was to be expected…but there was always something shy of his reach that he couldn't quite understand until Yamcha had landed in his lap almost three years ago. Gohan, married and quite sure that he was supposed to endure the strange strain that had fallen on his marriage, had thought he'd quite literally lost his mind when he found himself wanting to be around Yamcha more. Yamcha within his own right was a loner, not one to stick around but for so long and never one to be found unless he wished it. Yamcha's scent however drove him near insanity…and he avoided it until his saiyan side quite literally took hold of him and allowed Yamcha to crow in happiness the moment he bowed his head in submission.

The change happened swiftly. It happened so suddenly that Gohan literally woke up to find his lower half sore, unused, and sporting a new feature that had not been there before. He'd freaked, nearly having a panic attack until his father—the all-knowing simpleton that was anything but simple—showed up and calmly explained to him that while it was not quite that common in half breeds, it was normal when a saiyan took on a submissive role. Of course there was the horror of the "talk" he never thought he'd have to have, but everything came with a price.

Yamcha, remarkably, was more excited about it that Gohan had been. His reasoning was lecherous at best but he was sincere in his quest to dominate Gohan and make him his own. Gohan, having been dominant for so long, didn't truly understand that being submissive meant more than being on the opposite end, at least not until he found himself yielding to Yamcha's gentle demands and doing the things that "wives" were supposed to do without question. At least that's what he figured until he realized there was a balance that was emotional as well as physical between them.

Yamcha, while he was a loner, cared for himself and his needs. When he was with Gohan he was a protector, someone who got up and made sure there was nothing around to upset the happy little bubble they lived in. While Gohan was physically stronger than Yamcha, his personality wasn't. He was never really a loud person to begin with and if he could he would leave the decision making to others. The longer he was with Yamcha, the less he had to decide, and the more he realized that he **liked** not having to be the supposed "man" of the house. He liked being held down, pampered, catered to…and he LOVED how Yamcha seemed to be able to read all his emotions without fail and deliver inside and outside of the bedroom. Gohan didn't know just how much he'd come to love Yamcha until one morning when he woke to a strange feeling in the base of his abdomen and wound up keeling over in the middle of the day in unspeakable pain.

Gohan swallowed the lump in his throat and sighed tiredly as his head sank into Yamcha's shoulder. He didn't remember too much before he'd passed out except the muffled calling for him to wake up coming from Yamcha. When Gohan finally woke again, he wasn't in bed or on the couch…he was in the infirmary and feeling like someone had punched him in the gut repeatedly with all their might. The scent and sound of where he was didn't bother him. It was realizing that Yamcha was there with him, eyes red from crying and his throat scratchy and raw from screaming. He broke down upon seeing him wake, reaching up and hugging Gohan with apologies and reassurances Gohan could not understand. Gohan wondered why at first, asking him, dreading the answer the longer Yamcha took to tell him. Eventually he did get his answer, and he felt something within him break. He wasn't even aware of his own sobbing until much later, when Yamcha's shirt was soaked and slightly torn from his tugging. Yamcha only held him tighter, rocking him as the news of losing their first child sank and settled into their souls, leaving them feeling robbed, unsure, and foolish for not having known.

Most people who went through it never wanted to talk about it, never wanted to grieve, and feared it more than anything else after it was done. It was as if they'd been touched by death, a passing glance of fingers against something precious; robbing them of what could be and leaving them a little bitter about life and its unfairness, but stronger for having one another and seeing a new day with new appreciation for what was. It hurt more that Gohan didn't know about their child until after the fact, but he could not change what was. Gohan could, however, hold onto the small miracle that was a second chance and do all he could to keep alive the hope that had been given back to them.

He was about two months into it, three weeks further than he had been the first time. The subtle hardening of his lower abdomen was confirmation of the beginning of their unborn one settling in for the long haul, causing his bearer the uncomfortable twinge in his stomach from time to time. It wasn't "morning" sickness, but **_anytime_** sickness, and Gohan was loathe to vomiting up anything.

The small grimace on his face had Yamcha kissing the side of it, laughter bubbling as he slid his hand over the somewhat flat abdomen. "Still bubbling?"

"Some," Gohan murmured. "But it's a nice feeling."

Yamcha agreed, though he didn't dare say it aloud in fear of just how it may sound. It didn't matter, in some cases, what gender one's mate happened to be. Some things were always taken out of context, and he didn't think that saying "morning sickness" was a nice feeling would score him bonus points.

Gohan kissed the underside of his chin. "Thanks for not saying it."

"I like living," Yamcha murmured, getting a hearty laugh from his mate. They stayed cuddled for a while longer, until Bulma's desolate form wandered from wherever she'd been right past them. The poor woman hadn't been right since the previous day, when Goku had landed that bomb on her head and watched it explode with her depth of perception about the world she'd been allowed to live in, completely oblivious to the cunning creature that had been right under her nose the entire time. It was a blow to the ego and to the mind; Bulma's mind had shut down from its numbers and tinkering equations and gone into automatic, meaning she only comprehended moving, hunger, and going to the bathroom.

Yamcha had only seen her do this once and that was a very long time ago. Anything of a significant devastating life changing event would make anyone go a little mental, but for Bulma it meant that she was a program with basic functions and unable to upgrade herself until something snapped back into place.

Gohan watched her, a thoughtful look on his face the longer he watched her pace. "Maybe…"

"Maybe what, love?"

"Maybe…we should call my mom," Gohan said slowly. He looked back at Yamcha, wondering if he would consent to such a move. "She might snap her out of it."

"Your mom still wants my head," Yamcha grumbled. "But…I suppose I could call her…if Goku allows it."

"Deferring to the head honcho?"

"You bet your sweet ass…that's his former wife and my overbearing mother in law set on lighting me on fire…let **him** decide."

Gohan laughed softly and soothed his mate with soft kisses. "She'll forgive you soon enough." The warmth under his hand kept him from disagreeing, knowing that soon enough the crazy woman would probably move into their flat and dote on her eldest boy because the mother in her just couldn't be smothered. He briefly wondered what the others would say, and found himself trying not to laugh at the aneurysm that Krillin would have.

* * *

The next time Vegeta woke, he woke to the gentle prodding of a teasing finger on his nose. He snorted, waking fully and glaring at the chuckling behemoth sitting up and all but hopping out of the small bed that had somehow occupied the two of them. Vegeta resisted the urge to shiver from the sudden loss of warmth, but that shiver was short lived. He was tugged off of the bed the moment he sat up, yelping a little as Goku pulled him into his embrace and walked them out of the room with a light hum in his step. Vegeta stumbled but eventually allowed himself to be pulled, still a little out of it and wishing he was back in his bed.

"It's nearly noon, you know," Goku mentioned. "That's way too late to get up."

Vegeta snorted silently and said nothing. Given half the chance he would have slept the entire week away. It wasn't that often he found himself dreamless. If he could stay like that for longer than a night he would damn the day and let his body and mind rest themselves until he could stand to see the light that rose each morning. A new day seemed tedious, as did walking after a long moment.

He wasn't aware of his slowing down until Goku stopped, turned, and yanked him up into his arms, carrying him bridal style down the corridor and eventually into the bathroom. Vegeta was wide awake then, clinging unconsciously to Goku's shirt as they approached the oversized tub that had been run and prepped. Rather than being tossed into the waiting water like he thought, Vegeta was placed down gently, shoved a little by an insistent hand to move and do what was expected.

Vegeta turned his head slightly, refusing to acknowledge the sudden blush in his cheeks.

"What are you waiting for?"

"….I'm…"

"Strip already and get in! The day is wasting and we've got plenty to do."

What in the hell was Goku going on about now?! Vegeta started to ask, but he thought better of it and decided it just wasn't worth the exertion of finding out. He peeled himself out of his clothing, dropping everything into the hamper and eventually lowering himself into the prepped water.

He closed his eyes, listening to Goku move around the bathroom. While he had resolved himself to giving into the urges he so readily squashed the moment he was free to do so, he truly hadn't thought about the whole process of this thing Goku had started and sought to finish. The moron had a whole lot of faith in an ailing part of the world, the part where Vegeta simply existed and tried not to drown himself just to spare himself some pain. It was rather tempting to sink and just let go, but Goku was there again and laying a hand on his neck, bringing him out of his reverie and up to look at him in the eye.

"This is the easier part," Goku said softly. "Getting up and moving…and going about your life…that part is easy. It's learning how to fight the urge to let everything go that's the hardest part, and we are going to get past it no matter how long it takes."

How this idiot knew what he was thinking…it was annoying…and a sign that he'd been there a time or too himself. Vegeta couldn't fathom how, being that he was the savior of the world and all who knew him, but he really didn't know too much about Goku as a person anyhow. He simply knew him as the overgrown ox that liked to get in the middle of his business and fish everyone's ass out of the fryer, not to mention his self-sacrificing ass backwards act that did nothing but irritate the shit out of him.

Maybe….maybe that was why….

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed the hand that was on his neck, squeezing and making his short burst of irritability known. It hit him so fast that it left him dizzy, but the look on his face had the rapt attention of Goku gently rubbing his neck to sooth his ire. It didn't vanish that quickly, not quick enough for his mouth to pause before his thoughts took hold and had him snarling at the bigger saiyan.

"Don't promise me SHIT if you plan to die for anything less than dying for something worthy!" he spat. "I'll not sit here and adhere to this if you're only going to up and kill yourself for the fucking greater good!"

"Vegeta…"

"I MEAN IT! If you're going to do what you said, honor your word and don't…don't LEAVE me…here ALONE….AGAIN!" Goku was always leaving. He never stayed in one place and if he did, it was never long enough to really see more than what he wanted them to see. This mark…this mark on his neck….while it made Vegeta Goku's intended and the submissive of their supposed twosome, it also promised a life time of his mate for better and for worse. If he had to endure this pain, if he had to endure the ache of thinking that life could be sweet for a moment in his desolate life, he wasn't going to have it snatched from him because of some rogue enemy they couldn't defeat! "I'd rather die right here and now…than to sit here and hope for something that won't last because you feel the need to die for the lot of us…don't tempt me with false promises…don't make me hate you honestly."

His answer was given in the form of being yanked backwards gently by his hair, nose to nose with Goku growling softly in amusement. "Then give me something worth staying here for." He stole his lips and his breath, ravishing him until Vegeta couldn't keep his body from keening on its own without his mind's permission. Goku pulled away, however, allowing Vegeta to breathe and feel a little bereft under the obvious appall of his lack of self-control.

"You'll get used to it," Goku chuckled softly. Vegeta threw him a mild glare, unable to quite voice himself without giving away the state he was in. It didn't stop Goku from laying another softer kiss on his brow, still chucking quietly as he said, "I'm not a complicated person in theory…and mastering me is your goal, isn't it?"

Vegeta didn't quite understand why he was wide awake after that…but he did silently enjoy the bath as Goku set to grooming him as if he were something precious. Vegeta idly thought that perhaps he could bring himself believe it someday…but that day was nowhere within close sight.

* * *

"Wait, you actually **want** to call Chi-chi?"

Yamcha nodded a little, deferring to Gohan who was steadily watching as Bulma moved from point A to B with no true destination, her legs shoveling her forward without her thinking about it and moving about as if the body connected to them didn't have a light on in that skull. It was similar to watching a beast keep moving despite having its neck broken or shot in the head and somehow living through the last moments of its sanity. There were moments where it looked like she would hit the wall, but a last moment dip to the right or left kept her from it and moving with a half empty cup of cold coffee that she couldn't quite bring herself to dump, drink, or throw.

Goku probably would have laughed if he were heartless. In truth he felt awful about the way things had gone, but the truth was the truth. Bulma was the type of person that lived in facts and what she thought was truth. Blowing her mind like this unraveled the world she'd been living in and left her grasping for straws or something to hold onto.

He rubbed the back of his head in thought. If he called Chi-chi…well, there were going to be unpleasant words flying regardless so it didn't really matter if he called her or not. She was going to find out and sure enough the fireworks were going to go off and leave someone singed. While she was a great woman and knew more than she let on, her fiery temper was something to match that of his own in silence when something wasn't quite right in his world. It was the reason they had an understanding of sorts in place. She was fine with his departure and his quest to seek someone else. Really she was. Chi-chi was not, however, ready for her son to do it or to shack up with the one person she thought resembled a wild beast more than anyone else in their group.

It was still a sore point with her, one she wasn't going to let go of too easily, and now with the way Bulma was acting and the silent news of an impending life…

"Well, I did promise I wouldn't die unnecessarily." He looked back at the silent one, Vegeta aimlessly watching Bulma move about without purpose and looking a little lifeless himself. Goku's soft words did snap him out of his quiet musing, a startled noise coming from him before he could squash it and the urge to blush. Goku smiled sideways and winked. "I'm sure Chi-chi won't kill anyone…maybe."

"Are you kidding me?" Yamcha muttered. "She's going to bring the tomahawk and scalp me!"

"She said she'd skin you and fillet you…not scalp you, and besides, she'll change her tune after she finds out about the little one to be."

"And the last thing anyone needs is her moving in with us!"

"Which is why you're calling her."

"WHAT?!"

Goku patted the poor man on his shoulder. "The only way you're going to earn her respect is to do what makes you the most uncomfortable," he said. "You're going to call her, endure her hanging up on you, call her back, and then calmly tell her what's going on. She's going to hang up on you, but I guarantee she'll be here before the day is over."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Yamcha groused.

Goku, simple by nature in his own words, grinned. "She's predictable."

* * *

Oh boy...here comes Chi-chi...

This should be interesting. Oh, and in case you're wondering, the smut comes in random intervals. *shrugs* As much as we all love it and want it written, would there really be a plot if I just had Goku take Vegeta and turn him into a babbling mess? I hate hurried stories...You can always tell they were hurried by how quickly shit happens from one chapter to the next.

Shit, now I'm going to fine tooth my other stories. Thanks brain.

Reviews are nice. :)


	7. From the Horse's Mouth

**AN:**

It's...been a minute. I've been involved in trying to survive SCHOOL. So...

Yeah.

I don't have much to say. I'm up late uploading this right? Okay! Okay then.

* * *

**Chapter 7:** Right from the Horse's Mouth

* * *

"Is it possible to go deaf from the phone slamming down in your ear?" Yamcha mused. "Seriously, I thought those phones had stopped being manufactured."

Gohan tried not to chuckle any more than he had. While a lot had changed about the world and who was in it, his childhood home hadn't changed that much. Mostly everything within that house was operated by fire or man power, and what little was used with electricity was considered archaic at best. That phone was probably there for the sake of being slammed rather than used and his mother probably wouldn't openly deny it. It served its purpose in making his husband's ears ring quite a bit, which only spurred him to move and kiss his cheek in apology.

"Your mother **hates** me."

"She hates change," Gohan corrected. "Not you….I think. Besides which, she's going to have to learn to like you if she wants to dote on her next grandchild."

There was that to think about. Yamcha hadn't forgotten but being reminded of it sparked him back into doting overprotective mode which had him urging to sit Gohan down and running to get him water he didn't ask for. Gohan watched him leave, a light sigh playing at his lips as his amusement rose. If Yamcha was this bad now, he almost couldn't wait to see him when the big event arrived.

"I'm taping it," Goku remarked from where he was seated. He wasn't alone. Vegeta was seated aside him, arms crossed but clearly leaning into the open embrace of Goku leaning back on the couch. The smaller saiyan looked more tired than usual, but that didn't stop Goku from laughing out right at Gohan's obvious thoughts playing upon his face. "It'll be something to play when your kids are grown and getting married."

"I don't want to think that far ahead," Gohan chortled. "I'm still having trouble believing it."

"It'll be fine, son."

"It'll be fine after I make sure mom doesn't kill him."

"Yeah, well…there is that."

Silence ensued for a few seconds. It was disrupted by the sudden yelp of Yamcha and the abrupt yelling of a familiar woman they weren't quite expecting for some time. Yamcha had only called an hour ago and had only gotten through about fifteen minutes prior to now. For her to be here so quickly…

Gohan didn't stay to figure it out. He was up and rushing for the commotion with Goku on his heels and Vegeta reluctantly following for the sake of following. Sitting on the couch wasn't going to help him avoid the mayhem later, and he wasn't in the mood to get hit with the backlash of whatever was going down later. The three of them rushed towards the sounds of pain and sure abuse, only to stop in the middle of a corridor where Yamcha was desperately trying to keep his hair from being pulled out by smaller but frighteningly strong hands. The woman who owned them didn't give a lick about how hard she was pulling, or that tears were beginning to from in the corner of his eyes from her tugging without mercy.

Yamcha grimaced and grit his teeth against the pain. It wasn't the worst pain he'd felt but it wasn't a picnic either. "Chi-chi…How in the hell did you get here so damn faasssaahahhh!"

She tightened her grip quite a bit and tugged even harder with a glint in her eyes. "How do you think, you moron?!"

"You teleported? AGH, Would you let GO!?"

"Why should I? Someone like you should be used to shit like this…and what's the big idea calling me as if I'm of any help to you?!" she spat, yanking him down until he was eye to eye with her. "I thought I told you that the next time I see you, I'd beat that head of yours in until you were looking at me through your as—"

"MOM, let go of him!" Gohan cried. "That's enough already!"

"Oh he's fine, sweetheart," Chi-chi said through a forced smile. "He can take a little pain."

"Mom, I'm telling you to stop it now! That's not a good idea!"

"Why? What's he going to do about it? Not a damn thi—whooaaa!"

Not a damn thing turned into something much too fast for her to contemplate until it was much too late. One moment she was upright and tugging at that hair of his, the next she was staring upwards at the ceiling and then at Yamcha growling loudly and irritably. It was a little much for her mind, so much so that she stopped breathing for a few seconds as his hands firmly pinned her down and kept her where she was. There wasn't an ounce of give to be had, not even when her slightly shaken breath irritated him into showing off a set of sharp canines that had not been there once upon a time. Those things were sharp, and she would have remembered them had she seen them before. Heaven only knew how often he opened up his mouth to say something irrelevant, but it appeared that even he could keep something this significant to himself.

The pain in her backside didn't register until she tried to dislodge herself subtlety. She realized that she'd hit the floor pretty hard and rather fast, and she didn't remember anything transitioning from one movement to the next. He was fast, she give him that much, but she'd lived with Goku long enough to know when not to move for the sake of sparing her throat being torn out. Her sudden stillness allowed Gohan to rush over, and for one quick moment she thought that Yamcha was going to find himself face first in the closest wall.

Gohan did grab Yamcha, but it was only to pull him back from wherever his mind was. He didn't yank, or slam him into a wall, but gently pulled at his shoulders with a soft sound of worry. It seemed to snap Yamcha out of his feral state of mind. Gohan gently eased Yamcha off of her, making soft sounds of reassurance as he calmed his husband down. It was Gohan's turn to be grabbed next, though he didn't mind it as much as someone else would have.

Chi-chi, still a little bit shell shocked, sat up with a light wince. She definitely was going to feel that later on tonight. Goku knelt down to her level, a small smirk playing on his face as their eyes met. "Didn't I warn you about pushing Yamcha's buttons?"

"You…might have," she admitted somewhat reluctantly, "but you know me. He wasn't going to show me until I pressed that last nerve…but I didn't think tugging his hair would do it."

"It wasn't."

"What?"

"It wasn't," Goku repeated. He moved out of her line of sight and pointed in the direction of Gohan currently buried in Yamcha's almost too tight and obviously possessive embrace. To anyone else just walking in it would have appeared to be the twosome cuddling as they normally tended to do. Upon closer inspection, she could see her son shivering in that man's embrace, not out of fright for her but for his husband still silently growling despite his closed off face. The soft nuzzle of his nose against Gohan's ear eased the tension some, but Yamcha was still a little on edge and clearly pissed off that his mate was upset now.

Chi-chi sighed irritably to herself. "Do you always have to be right?"

Her former husband grinned a little and helped her to her feet. "Not always."

"Right. I'll apologize properly once he's back to normal…in the meantime; fill me in on why you made him call me and this thing about Bulma's brain being blown to bits."

Vegeta observed everything with a sense of displacement. The world was playing a massive joke on him. Somewhere he'd slipped from that sad reality into this strange camaraderie between a former husband and wife acting as if they knew the inside joke and would never in their lives let him in on it. Cameras popping up out of nowhere would have been welcome if it meant feeling some type of normalcy and not this subtle shock working its way through his brain and into his face, when Goku sauntered over to him and took him under his arm. Chi-chi was at his side, listening as Goku explained about Bulma, sparing him not a glance but highly aware of the position Goku had taken with him. Vegeta watched her warily; unsure of what the woman would do to him.

"You can relax." She said this and he tried not to flinch openly at the bite in her words. He had never within his life here heard or felt that playful bit from that woman, and he wasn't about to let his guard down even if she smiled to take the sting from her words. "You're so tense…!"

"He doesn't really know you quite like I do," Goku chuckled. "You tend to put on masks. Remember?"

"Yeah, well…whatever. Look," she said reaching out to gently touch Vegeta on his trembling shoulder, "I have business with you that involved beating your face in….That is reserved for Yamcha for not properly courting my son."

"Are you still on about that?!" Gohan cried from Yamcha's embrace. "Mom, it's not like we could help it! Besides, he's the one who said NO the first time."

"So you weren't good enough then?"

"MOM!"

"All right, all right, relax Gohan…I'm done berating the shit out of Yamcha…" She sniffed indignantly, dusting her pants off as if it were nothing. "Besides, I owe your father a hundred Zeny. He said Yamcha would eventually snap under pressure…I had less faith in him than that. I suppose we can take it as a token of love or…whatever."

Gohan groaned tiredly and buried his face back into Yamcha's shoulder. The older man hugged him a little harder, relieved, confused, and just a bit miffed that all it took to get Chi-chi off of his back was to nearly rip her jugular out.

Now he **really** didn't want to tell her about their little blessing. She'd _NEVER_ **leave**.

"Anyhow," she said turning her attention back toward Vegeta, "You can't stop being so tense. I knew what I was getting into. Even when this simpleton was truly simple, I knew…and frankly sometimes life is a competition that can't be won every time. So, stop worrying, make the simpleton happy, and find your niche. Bulma will be fine once I've talked to her."

She seemed so sure. Vegeta found a piece of him wanting to scoff at her claims, having lived with Bulma all these years and used to her quirks, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. All these years living with the same half-truths and lies, denying certain aspects of himself and ignoring the ignorance of those around him…surely he should be the one having a mental field day especially since Goku was standing here so readily claiming Vegeta as his own despite not having taken the first step to lay proper claim upon his hide. Vegeta ignored his cheeks flaring up like the night in the midst of summer, not wanting to think about those implications or when they would happen. It was strange enough trying to acknowledge that this was actually happening and he wasn't lying concussed to death somewhere.

"Hey, Chi-chi, how did you get here so fast?" Goku asked curiously. "The house is a good distance from here…"

She grinned, throwing up the peace sign and said, "I have my calls to the house forwarded to my cellphone." The others gaped at her. "There's an app for hanging up the phone like I'm slamming it. It works wonders for when I'm actually out and about."

"A cellphone?" Gohan cried silently. "Since when…"

"I've had it for forever." She flipped it open, showcased it for a few seconds, and then shoved it back into her purse with a laugh. "Blame Pan for it. Well, come along…time's wasting away and I'm sure Bulma's brain is starving for oxygen."

* * *

They found her somewhere within the middle of the house, face buried into a cushion and looking like she was the one who was concussed. Vegeta absently rubbed the back of his head, unnecessarily reminded of a similar moment in his life involving a lucky punch and a rock. There weren't any hard surfaces with pools of blood on it, so it was safe to assume that this was a mental concussion rather than a forced physical one.

Getting closer to her revealed the true state of her spiral into the decent. Gohan wouldn't step but so close, his hand flying to his nose and a soft gag making it known aloud what the others knew long beforehand. She was using those showers in a can, a commodity that travelers used when they were going places that water wasn't readily present and something that had the sharp aftertaste of metal when one inhaled the scent of it. Being of a different species, or partial, they all could smell it and see that it was a little worse than they had originally thought. The fact that she lifted her head and stared blankly at them wasn't helping her case of being mentally shorted out. Goku looked back at Chi-chi and shrugged at the smaller woman coming to see it for herself.

Chi-chi wasn't impressed. "It takes something like this to short out her brain?" She moved closer, wrinkling her nose in that way when she'd been around the men after they'd been fighting. A mother's nose never went away, not even when it was being used to determine just how long a certain female had been without water and soap in the same combination. From the wrinkle in her brow seconds later, the others determined that it had been a while. "This is ridiculous. Is losing Vegeta that traumatizing to her?"

"I don't think that was it," Gohan said. He looked sideways at his father, not surprised to see Goku innocently staring off at nothing while listening to everything. "I think it was more along the lines of Dad blowing her natural genius out of the water with the appearance of his true personality."

"She's seen worse things. Goku having a little bit of intelligence isn't something to be—oh, shit, you did NOT tell her everything!"

The bigger saiyan shrugged a little. "I might have let slip the more…calculating side of me."

"Wait, so you didn't tell her—"

"It was relayed that I marked everyone in some shape or form. It was also relayed that I didn't mark her because of a request not to."

"I see. And what else did you relay?"

He was looking away again, which meant that he was trying to figure out a way to rephrase what might have been said in the heat of the moment. Goku knew better than anyone else that he could quietly insult someone without thinking about it, a flaw that he wouldn't realize until much later after each incident that occurred. Going back over the two conversations that he'd had with Bulma, he grimaced a little and wondered why he hadn't perfected his tact yet. "I may…have relayed a little too bluntly that she was past the breeding age."

Chi-chi smacked her forehead. "You told her she was OLD?!"

"Not in those exact words no…but you know how I get when someone pokes a little too hard."

"But she DIDN'T know."

"I was under the assumption that she didn't quite care what happened to Vegeta," he said looking backwards at the smaller saiyan. "She makes no mention of him but to complain or completely dismisses his presence unless they're fighting…and even so, they haven't had a row in a very long while."

"…he's right about that much," Vegeta said quietly. His soft response had everyone looking at him. He fought not to flee from the staring. "We haven't fought in a long time. Hell, we don't even talk…not like normal people."

"So in essence, she's in shock from your announcement that she's old, and that Vegeta's not hers to claim," Chi-chi surmised. "Makes sense."

"Actually, she's in shock because she thinks Goku thought she was too stupid to understand the basis of our complex nature which is several shades of wrong in her head," Vegeta sighed. "It's like some scholar being showed up by a known idiot and conned into thinking one way when in fact the idiot's way is the truth."

"For the record, I am not an idiot," Goku said.

"No…but you are a simpleton, which is dangerous and conniving…"

"And sexy. Don't forget that."

"And you have a bigger Ego than you let on," Chi-chi smirked. "Vegeta take a lesson from the one who had to live with him; stroking his ego makes life much easier. He's really a simple guy…and he somehow gets what he wants."

Wasn't that the truth wrapped up in a pretty little bow? Vegeta didn't know which was more appalling; knowing that Chi-chi was right, acknowledging that she was right, or that she was giving him advice as if she'd been a friend of his throughout the years. There couldn't be much more to freak out about now. This was possibly the top of the crazy cake he'd devoured because he wanted to join a cult or something.

Wait, did Goku openly say he was sexy?!

"Okay, I think Vegeta's going to convulse in three seconds," Yamcha mused. "Let's not have two brainless people. Bulma is enough."

"She's not brainless, she's in shock…and if you give me ten seconds she won't be," Chi-chi said.

They had never seen Bulma quite like this before. She hadn't responded at all during their conversation and didn't move other than to sigh pathetically into her pillow from reflex. Had she been focused outside of wherever her brain was, she might have moved at the sight of Chi-chi rolling up her sleeves. The others backed away already aware of where this was headed. Chi-chi, if nothing else, never dropped her skills as a martial artist. She was a wife and mother foremost, but she could still chop a tree in half with the back of her hand if she was inclined to. The stance she took shortly after was one that Gohan inwardly winced at. That stance was the one that had broken more than several tables, knocked holes into walls, and had his father blinking stupidly at the hole in the door by his head once when Chi-chi had been pushed to the limits of whatever her angry meter stopped. She made no noise other than a soft short snort before the couch was in the air and falling in half with Bulma screaming in the midst of it all.

She landed hard upon the floor, groaning as the pain registered and forced her out of wherever her brain had been. She blinked tiredly at nothing, rubbing her head as she took in whatever had knocked her back into reality. She didn't get to look far. Once she'd moved her neck to the left she was met with the sight of a familiar set of pants that belonged to a woman that could possibly break a man in half if she was pissed enough.

But what in the hell was she doing here?

"Please tell me that I'm having a very bad dream and that Chi-chi did not do what I think she did," she moaned. "I really liked that couch…"

"You've only been laying on it since forever," Yamcha muttered.

"I have not!"

Yamcha ever so kindly pointed to the several cans that were littered all over the floor. "You've been showering without water for **days**." The unsaid "you smell" was delivered with Gohan's attempt to bury his nose against his husband's shoulder. That whole heighted senses thing was ten times as worse with a race that already had heightened senses, including their sense of smell. The citrusy tang of the can mixed with the fragrant odor of musk, metal, and stale air was a mixture that could turn anyone's stomach if they inhaled enough of it.

Yamcha led his mate away from the smell, promising to get him some crackers and juice to settle his stomach. The soft retort did not go unheard by Chi-chi. She very nearly whirled around and demanded to know why her motherly instincts just rang several alarms in her head. Bulma's pitiful moan and attempt to right herself kept her from it.

She squared her shoulders, huffed, and walked for the woman dazedly standing on her feet.

The loud CRACK of hand meeting cheek kept Bulma from drifting off again.

"Wha—?!"

"You're being an IDIOT," Chi-chi spat, "A sad excuse for a human being if I ever saw one! Look at you! You're sitting around here moping because of what?! Because someone said you were old?! Because someone said you weren't breeding material?!"

Bulma, her hand flush against her throbbing cheek, ignored the bit of blood that came running from her lip. The dull blue orbs that had been content to stare into nothingness hardened like ice and found fire to burn. It was the most alive she'd been in days, and it was a little scary to see her brain slip back into functioning because someone had shoved her hard to the far right of her own idiocy. She wasn't going to admit it right away. The fight was there but not the reasoning. All she saw right now was a woman who'd smacked her, not someone trying to make her see some sense of what was going on.

Goku quietly removed himself and took Vegeta with him. There was no place for them here in the middle of a fight between two females that could be alphas within their own rights. Vegeta went without complaint, a little worried and a lot confused when Goku mentioned that they should start packing his stuff up. Just where in the hell were they supposed to go?

Bulma watched them leave briefly. She felt that cold numbness crawling under her skin again at the sight of Vegeta being ushered off. Goku's hand was at the small of his back, guiding, pressing, soothing and claiming in the same amount of suffocating space that made it hard to breathe when she thought enough to do so. The light wheeze that came from her was pricked by the flickering spots dancing at the sides of her eyes and the tightness of her face when the rage would not abate. She wanted the word "mine" to rage forth from her mouth and send her screaming off after Goku to beat it into him that this wasn't how things worked. She wanted to move to grab the nearest blunt object and slam it against Chi-chi's skull before she went after Goku and made it a piece of his skull permanently. She wanted more than anything for Vegeta to walk back in here and tell her it was all one big joke that he constructed just to fuck with her and for her to be angry at him for days on end until she couldn't stand the sight of him.

What she did was hang her head as her vision swam with the tears of truth she readily denied until it was screaming in her ears and in her clenching throat.

"I know you're angry."

"You don't know shit!" she spat. "Don't tell me how I feel! You have no right to tell me anything when you allow this to go on!"

"I didn't allow this," Chi-chi corrected with a raised finger. Bulma's eyes transfixed themselves on that digit as it centered itself between her eyes and thrust into forehead, tilting it and her vision backwards. "I have no say in what happens. "This was already in place. This was something I knew the moment I fell for that saiyan back there. This was inevitable…and while it was not fair, I knew."

"And you're okay with this?! With your husband suddenly leaving you for mine?!"

"I've had time to get used to it…because while I would love to keep that man back in there for myself, I know better. He's not human Bulma…he wants a **mate**. He **_needs_** a **MATE**."

That word. She'd heard Goku say it several times but her mind just wouldn't soak in the meaning that was blaring so very obviously at the edge of her consciousness. "No." It was the only word she would allow. It made sense. It was firm, correct, and a testament to the screaming nonsensical shit that jumbled around in her mind desperately trying to fit itself in a larger puzzle she'd thought she'd figured out. Not only had that puzzle been wrong, her perception of Goku was so far off base that she was crawling to get back to some type of semblance that would keep her here on the ground and not floating around in that fog she'd slipped into willingly.

Her life….her whole life…

"Was lived."

"No…it was a lie…"

"Whose lie?" Chi-chi moved her finger from Bulma's head to her chest, poking the very center and shoving her backwards just a bit. "It wasn't a lie, Bulma. Those moments were real and so was everything within them. Your kids are real. Your memories are real. Your hatred for Goku is more than real…and it's not as simple as blaming him for something that doesn't make sense to you and I."

Bulma felt the right edge of her world crack and shatter into so many pieces that it was only natural to lurch to the left and fall. She landed hard on the floor, her hands sheltering her weight from collapsing completely onto the floor and giving into the darkness hedging at her. Her face was wet, her nose clogged, and she could not bring herself to breathe properly no matter how hard she tried. She heaved and let out a garbled noise, fingers digging into the carpet and tugging with her screaming for someone to make sense of it all.

Chi-chi knelt down next to her. "And I think you finally understand…"

Oh she understood all right. Bulma understood it and she hated Goku more than anything right then and there. It wasn't losing Vegeta. No. That part was easy to hold onto, to make the reason. That part kept her little world together with the flimsy tape of justification she'd tried to place in various spots of her life. When it finally gave way and let her see the honest to god truth sitting heavily on her neck and staring her dead in her face, she wanted to slam her fists through the floor and find some way to hurt Goku as much as he'd hurt her.

Not because he'd taken Vegeta. No. Vegeta was a means of convenience that turned into a way of life because that man, Yamcha, could not see in her what he needed to remain at her side. It was a guilty pleasure that molded itself into the everyday and resulted in two children but there was nothing really holding them together aside moments of weakness and the occasional roe that would result in one of them destroying something or having some of the best sex ever. They didn't talk…they didn't go anywhere; they didn't do things that normal people did. She was immersed in her own world and she let him exist in the house, free to do what he wanted as long as it wasn't going to cause trouble.

That bubble of guilt was more sickening than the hatred that wouldn't leave. Vegeta kept to himself, boasting of his status. He clung to it and the promise to kill Goku whenever he got the chance…but she'd only thought of it as small talk and a way to keep his head down here on earth. He'd been projecting the need to keep everyone who could ever think to dominate him away, fear ruling his actions and keeping him from truly emerging. If she'd seen a hint of Vegeta…as he truly was…

Goku had seen. He'd always seen, just like he'd always been behind that damn mask that placed itself in every memory of that simple minded fool acting the part into his strange sick perfection. He let them believe it. He let her think that he was this…uncomplicated oaf that lived on dumb luck and had a heart bigger than earth itself.

He was a lying selfish bastard that thought so little of her that she'd been left out of the truth and humiliated several different times as he walked off with her husband as his prize.

She wanted with all her heart to believe that piece of her head fuming.

She couldn't.

But it still hurt to know that she was excluded like this…to know that she was the one who was in the dark the entire time while the light shone down on those who were deemed intelligent enough to handle the truth. That she wasn't considered family…she was a rival…a person in the way of the inevitable and so stupid that her own arrogance kept her from seeing the blatant signs right there in front of her. She said as much, and Chi-chi with her ever loving self, slapped her right upside her head.

"You fucking idiot…"

"What the—"

"Are you really that stupid?!" Chi-chi spat. "Stop thinking like a human and think outside of the box. If it were you, and your mate, your one and only mate that was oblivious to what he was or refused to accept it was with one of your oldest and dearest friends….what in the hell would you do?!"

She opened her mouth to answer, but what she thought was not what was about to voice itself. "….shit."

"And now she gets it." Chi-chi slumped down to sit on the floor. "It's not an easy situation for anyone, Bulma…and Goku is an Alpha. He's been fighting this for longer than you think."

"…please tell me you're not justifying this."

"I'm not. I'm telling you to see it from both sides…because he knew someone was going to get hurt." She placed a gentle hand on Bulma's shoulder and squeezed. "He knew you were going to get **hurt**."

"If he knew…then why…"

"Because you had his mate…and no, he still refuses to bite you, even if you ask."

She knew this, and her heart was heavier than before. "…because I am not family."

"No." Bulma tried not to look at her with that little bit of hope that flared from her when Chi-chi said that, but it was hard not to when Chi-chi cupped her face and dried her tears with understanding hands. "Because you are family…and because Vegeta asked him **not** to."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because Vegeta does love you, in his own odd way." Chi-chi smiled a little sadly, brushing another set of tears from that face she'd come to love and hate like true family through the years. Time had been good to them, but their years as the wives of the saiyans were over. She needed to know it all, and swallow it like the bittersweet pill it was. "If Goku bit you…he would have taken Vegeta then and there and killed you on the spot if you objected," she explained. "He couldn't do that…Vegeta wouldn't let him do that. Rather than fight about it, Goku agreed not to bite you…and then he took away the memory of that day from Vegeta…because he wasn't ready to face who he was."

He wasn't ready to do something? The prince who boasted of his strength and posture and the idiocy of the ones around him at all times? "He's the fucking prince of all saiyans," Bulma half laughed and half spat. "I thought he could face anything and beat its face in…"

"He is a prince…yes…" That much could be said. But the rest—Chi-chi looked back to see Goku standing in the doorway. He was without Vegeta, which was the only reason he nodded his consent. She could tell her. She deserved to know this much. "Yes, he's a prince, but he's also an **Omega**, Bulma."

The look of realization emerging on Bulma's face had Chi-chi sighing in memory of her own shock when she'd heard it herself. Vegeta? The proclaimed prince? An Omega?

Yes. Chi-chi's loud swallow and Goku's fleeing frame were the testaments of truth she needed to see that this was not a lie to keep her from falling apart further.

Vegeta was an Omega…that word made her stomach lurch.

He was a prize amongst his people, a prize that hid himself away in fear that he would be dominated by someone who took the term Omega to literal heart. Omegas were breeding machines anywhere they existed, and rarer than rare. For the prince to be one, and for him to be allowed such freedom, people would think it blasphemous, and she was sure that he'd been the victim of something too awful to allow it to manifest in her head, lest she wanted to make the carpet another color with her vomit. He never spoke about his past. He never mentioned anything about class unless he was talking about his status as a prince and Goku's status as a third class…yet the title of Alpha and Omega were the same in any race and Omegas—

"Oh…oh god…"

The wheels were just turning for the blue haired woman in front of her, and she didn't flinch when Bulma dropped herself into her embrace to sob all over again for different reasons. She'd had a long time to get over it, and the fact that her oldest son was one himself. He'd gotten lucky…he'd mated with a beta—a beta that had better tell her about why her motherly instincts were still smacking her in the face before she yanked it out of him.

Somewhere else in the house, Yamcha felt his spine freeze.

* * *

Mmmmmmmmmmmnoooooo you don't get to harass me about Alpha, Beta, and Omega Dynamics.

I have a new fandom obsession and yes, you can blame the wolves for the dynamic thing. I like the idea of this. It fits nicely. It'll be explained more later.

I don't...know if I even want to do the whole _**knotting** _thing. Technically these are alien monkeys...

but then again...they're alien. Sort of.

Convince me. Knotting or no? (I'll probably do what I want anyway but I'm curious about opinions)

Reviews are nice.


	8. Chain of Command

**AN:**

If I were to tell you that this...was a spur of the moment update...would you love me or hate me for it?

Either way, here's chapter eight. Sorry for the "jump" in time. Well, it's not a jump in time, its more of a scene change that will be explained in the next chapter. Also, for anyone who doesn't quite get this story, don't worry. I don't get it either. I write what comes to mind, regardless of the...*cough* _**persuasions **_I get for not updating like I should.

*stares at the culprit*

Ignoring that, (because come on, I laugh when those **_persuasions _**come and they are a nice reminder that people are **WAITING** for my slow ass), I've decided to go with the whole pack thing. I like the idea of Alphas and Betas and Omegas, though I really wasn't thinking about it along these lines until I got into Teen Wolf fanfiction, and seriously folks, if you have a Sterek (Stiles/Derek) Fiction that isn't utter crap for me to read, I think I may love you enough to just spit out a random porn.

I'll love you more if you have Issac/Scott.

Oh, look, incentive.

Ta ta now.

Oh right, warnings in the first couple of chapters and Yamcha assertive dominance and yada yada yada.

* * *

**Chapter 8:** Chain of command

The weight of what one was tended to be a burden more so than other problems within this lifetime.

To be told a truth that is a damning part of one's future is an unsettling time, and dealing with it tended to do strange things to one's behavior and mindset.

Vegeta was no exception. He was no stranger to the truth making his life a living hell and having to live with the fallout of shit gone wrong on so many levels there was nothing else to do but eat it and hoped it didn't kill him. He purposely shoved those times to the wayside of his mind in its idle state when thinking was dangerous. He didn't want to remember, to think on why things happened or analyze them to make sense of the nonsensical. There was no justification for insane bastards just like there was no figuring out why life could be the shittiest thing within the universe when it wanted to fuck around with someone's life. Things like this just happened, without notice, without warning, and without the slightest care for what anyone else might feel outside of the merciless laughter of amusement life echoed when it was bored.

He **knew** what he was. He'd known it before he'd gotten the awkward talk from the royal doctor when he was five. He'd known when his father had openly threatened to disembowel several assholes when they petitioned to be the ones to breed him when he was of age. He knew it when he was forcibly brought to that fucked up thing Frieza when other's found out about him. He'd never been so glad that interbreeding between their two species was near to fucking impossible. It did not stop him from his fun though. It never stopped anyone from their fucked up versions of fun. He knew it so well that he stuffed it into the back of his mind shaped closet and locked it up, forgetting it and forcing others to think otherwise. It was an instant chain that would keep him bound to the first asshole that thought it would be okay to take hold of what they thought they were entitled to. Knowing what one was and denying it tended to create a complex nature that suppressed natural occurrences and kept those unrelenting bastards away at the threat of getting their nuts plowed in with a ready fist.

It was a reason to get stronger. It was a reason to be angry and fly off the handle the moment that little pinprick of information was threatened to be exposed and why he was the cause of one too many deaths by forcible castration.

It was a reason he was more than glad to just pretend that Alpha males didn't exist when he realized that Kakorrot was a third class saiyan.

It wasn't like he could completely deny it. No. That little infernal piece of information popped up at inconvenient times. Like when he was exposed to the many races upon this planet and realized that that whole dynamic of Alpha, Beta, and Omega ran clearly and openly in some circles. While he wasn't frightened that some random fucking Alpha would sniff him out—mainly because he was a saiyan and could blow that fucker up—it didn't keep him from being wary of times when he was vulnerable to Alpha influences. It didn't stop him from sniffing out his son when he was born and being thankful that he wasn't prone to the nonsense of an omega. He was a Beta, and that was mostly because Bulma within her own right was an Alpha Female.

It made a lot of sense. She was human, but her domineering attitude and take charge personality was what drew Vegeta to her. It was safer that way. He had figured that part out a long while ago and didn't dwell on it too much. He had been content to let her believe that he was just some dysfunctional ass who had some kind of complex about strength and who was stronger, rather than let her know the truth of his real nature and give her a power complex or worse, receive the pity card. She didn't ask questions, he didn't answer them, and he was free to disappear when he felt those obnoxious heats coming on. She'd only caught him TWICE…which was the reason Trunks and Bra was here if he wanted to be completely honest with himself. Yes, what was meant to be would be no matter how much he fought it, and he wasn't sorry that it happened completely. It wasn't HIM, and that was the part he was thankful for. He could be thankful (extremely) that Bulma wasn't like that one race of people he'd come across where the females could impregnate one another and their men…

He shuddered at the thought and let his hands curl around his stomach.

"You all right?"

Maybe. He didn't readily reply and rather than flinching at the hand that rested against his neck, he leaned into it and sat like he was silently made to do. The flaring pain of disobedience didn't slam the side of his head and leave him gasping for air like it tended to when he was prone to fighting with the owner of that hand, but he hadn't known then that Goku was what he was. He'd only thought it was his own frustration that someone of a lower class could outdo him, but he should have known better. Should have…but didn't.

He'd been playing this game a little too long and now Vegeta was being called on his complete bullshit.

Vegeta knew what he was. He knew and he hated it. He hated it so much that he'd readily defied his nature and did what he was not meant to do. He'd become this out of sync thing that couldn't decide if it wanted to run and hide or just give into the urge to do what he'd been longing to do under the utter disgust of this blatant arrogance he'd used to his advantage for far too long. That well trained part of him was screaming at him for being so damn weak right now, sitting and resisting the urge to mouth off and tell people where to shove it…

"Breathe…"

…but it was so nice not having that pain. That pain that flared up more and more when he got angry…that pain that fed that fear of him losing himself to what he truly was and being unable to have that precious bout of freedom he'd been granted through much bloodshed…

"Vegeta…"

…That pain that was forgotten when he let his head rest against Goku's hip and he did as he was asked. He breathed. Inhaled. Took in the strong scent of the male aside him and felt so light that he very nearly fell asleep. He didn't know just how long he stayed like that. A few seconds, a few minutes? More? Less? All he knew after a while was that he was being lifted into those arms and carried somewhere without his open protest.

He might have drifted a little.

The next time awareness came around to slam him back down, the outside world was dark and the inside world didn't consist of his little room of existence away from the rest of the house. He was staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above him in slight panic, unaware that he was being watched until he felt Goku's weight aside him, bringing him back down and away from the rising panic and the urge to get up and flee. He let himself be rolled into those broad arms and stifled an open moan from the skin to skin contact.

It only meant one thing…

"No, we didn't." Goku's words were cutting through the fog of confusion and kept Vegeta from clinging harder to the sheets and the warmth crawling up his spine. "We didn't do anything. You're not ready, and I'm not forcing you."

And that may have been the best thing Vegeta had heard aside Frieza was dead, but that part of him he hated more than anything recoiled and whined in self-loathing. Not ready? Not ready meant one thing but is mind read it as not good enough. The harsh scratchy sound of his voice breaking in distress had him screaming inwardly as the thought of rejection overwhelmed whatever common sense he could muster. He started to slip somewhere dark, somewhere he'd been before but couldn't bring himself to look at, but Goku snatched him back with a harsh growl and pinning him to the bed with his weight. The weight of him kept Vegeta from moving, and the light nip of that mark on his shoulder kept him from the tumultuous unwelcome thoughts of this unexpected **_heat_** flaring up unnecessarily.

Fuck his life. Really.

"Your cycle is off."

And how would Goku KNOW that?! "…I…it's not supposed to…" Shit, he was not **supposed** to be having his cycle right now. It wasn't supposed to happen for another three weeks and even then he wasn't thinking about it or what it meant or what would happen. For fuck's sake he'd only just accepted the fact that Goku was an Alpha, HIS alpha…but the rest was a jumbled mess that would not fall into place like those magical stories where shit like this just snapped itself RIGHT.

"I know. Your body wants what it wants…but this," Goku said tapping the side of Vegeta's head lightly, "this isn't ready for what your body wants."

He was right about that. Vegeta, despite it all, was not ready for that type of commitment or connection. The mere thought of breeding had him wheezing and clawing at that invisible wall that threw itself up anytime that thought of domesticity erupted within his head. He could barely take care of himself let alone think about taking care of another little life that would inevitably be planted within him if he couldn't keep his head on straight. He groaned, his skin slick and uncomfortable, the pressure between his legs growing unbearable as he writhed beneath the weight of Goku and into the sheets. He could feel the slickness between his thighs pooling into the sheets, his cock like steel and quickly stripping him of any thoughts outside of getting off.

Normally he could just lock himself in his room. He often did. No one came in there. No one would dare. They were too afraid that he'd fly off the handle…and he wanted them to believe that. How would they take knowing that this arrogant prince of Saiyans was nothing more than a mewling whore silently moaning into his pillow, hips up in the air and moving restlessly against his own fingers looking to sate him in a way that he didn't dare entertain with another male? He'd spend hours impaling himself, simply existing to wake up, get off, and go back to sleep without biting his tongue in frustration, and when it wasn't enough, he was reaching for—

"It's not going to help."

Why did it not surprise him that Goku knew about that too!? "But…it takes…the edge off…" he gasped through his moans, humiliated that he couldn't string his thoughts together to make proper sentences. The prince in him wanted nothing to do with the concerned but infuriated look on Goku's face, and almost choked him when the word "please" came tumbling from his chest, fingers pressed into the muscular shoulders bunching up to keep him pinned. He struggled when Goku didn't move. The Alpha was still growling against his stomach, arms wrapped firmly around his waist and keeping him from the quelling the fire spreading like lava throughout his nether regions. It had never been this bad…not…since…

"You're not ready," he heard once more, the words slapping him in his gut and keeping him from breathing properly around the implications that would have slain him. Vegeta belatedly realized that Goku had moved from his spot, but was more than aware of the way Goku shoved himself into his space, intense and unrelenting as if they were meeting upon the battlefield. He would not be denied this. Vegeta wanted to sink his fist into his face and be damned with how things turned down the line, but he couldn't bring himself to do it or blame Goku for the reasons why. If it were him…

He pressed his free hand into his face and laughed silently. If it were him, this wouldn't be an issue.

"Fucking Alphas…"

"Not quite." The implications of that short two worded statement were not unnoticed. Vegeta was not impressed. Goku didn't care about that. He was more concerned with the heavy weight hanging in the air, the one laden with past tendencies that were now thrown out the window and the ramifications of said tendencies coming to a cold stop in the strange waters they now sat in.

The hard truth for anyone who hadn't a clue was this:

Goku wasn't going to fuck Vegeta mindless, and Vegeta wasn't allowed to pleasure himself with anything else aside that phallus sitting between his legs pressing up against him like it was an everyday thing.

The prince in him, the one created with all intentions of keeping shit faced assholes out of his life and away from where they weren't wanted, stumbled backward into the darkness for once, silent, in shock, and quite intrigued that someone like Goku—Kakorrot—would initiate such a move. The Omega in him whined in need, and his body decided that it didn't have it within it to wait for the promise of what had to be "earned". It wasn't as much earning as it was retraining Vegeta to follow his instincts and accept what he was, which was within itself private hell for an Omega that had gone this long unmated, unclaimed, and unaccepting of all that came with being an Omega.

He wasn't used to having someone take care of him…and frankly, it terrified him.

That alone seemed to take the wind out of his sails. This out of sync heat only happened because he'd accepted Goku as his alpha, even if tentatively. He was sure now—not before by any means—that Goku wasn't one of those take charge Alphas that would take an omega like himself and use him like the breeding machine he was. That was a relief on his mind and what little heart he allowed to beat at the thrill of having someone so strong take interest in him like this. And see, that right there, that "thrill" part that kept popping up in unwanted moments, was making him uncomfortable in ways he didn't want to think about.

"You're thinking too much."

"I wouldn't be thinking at all if—"

"Not happening."

"No shit." He jerked his hips a little and slammed his head into the pillow behind him. "This isn't going to go AWAY you know."

"I know."

"So what the hell are you going to do?! You're not planning on fucking me, so—"

Just like that, Goku was off of him. Vegeta almost sat up, but he was pulled back down and forward, straddling the edge of the bed with his legs splayed open on either side of Goku's face. His pants were nowhere to be found, though he suspected that they had been abandoned sometime within the blackout from the last time he was conscious. He still didn't know where he was, but the place smelt—reeked really—of outside and that fiery scent that wafted off of the Alpha below him, adjusting his feet to rest on his shoulders and wordlessly told Vegeta to keep them planted where they were. He really didn't have a choice. It was a bit of a lifeline and anchor to keep from yowling and tumbling off of the bed, white heat taking over what sense there could have been and killing all thoughts of trepidation he might have harbored.

This was the third time Goku had done this. The third time Vegeta's toes curled and his hips canted upwards to chase the teasing lick of that tongue swirling; fingers easing aside the fabric of his underwear and parting the moist lips that wanted to overflow with what could rival honey in Goku's mind. It was the third time his underwear didn't survive more than five minutes, the third time he bit the tip of his tongue to keep from screaming, and the third time Vegeta felt the inevitable rush of orgasm coming up on him before he was ready.

It was the first time, however, that he felt that fleeting relief under the numbing sensation of his backside when orgasm washed over him, painting Goku's cheeks and drenching the tongue that eagerly lapped up what was given and dug further to get **more**. The hot slice of his tongue sliding deep within the quivering pink hole soaked in saliva and cum had Vegeta crying out and grabbing either side of Goku's head with the pleads for more leaving his lips. It was the first time he'd begged outright for it, meant it, and he didn't give a shit about the other side of him still screaming at him for being weak.

It was the first time Goku shoved him back on this bed and gave him what he needed; forcing the prince to shut up completely and give into what he'd been fighting for the first time in his known life.

Submission.

* * *

"Are they still gone?"

Yamcha looked up from his washing the dishes. Videl was standing aside him, questioning, and he couldn't quite answer that with a straight face. She got the hint though. The playful glimmer in his eyes told volumes and she sighed irritably as she moved to sit back down at the table. "How long does this thing last?"

"It's probably going to last a couple of days," he said. "Vegeta isn't a normal case."

"I know that…but it's weird being here without either of them around. It's…disconcerting."

Yamcha tried not to laugh at her not so subtle misery. Tried. When he looked back at her, she was pouting at the table like a puppy that had been kicked and looked far too young to be the mother of a certain young lady kicking her legs aimlessly as she played her videogame. Pan, now in her late teens, was still a kid at heart. She was smart, fast, and clever like her mother, but sometimes Yamcha could see her father within her. Like now, when the innocence would just bubble over and leave him seeing her like she was still eight years old..

That tended to fade when she opened her mouth though, recently as of late. The litany of curses that came out of her mouth at the death of her character had her mother up and reaching over to smack her in the head. Pan cried out in protest, but she stopped cursing at the look Videl was giving her. She backed down, but she was making the position to get up and leave at any moment. Videl willed her to sit back at the table and not move with another look launched in Pan's direction. Yamcha could see Videl's age then, and it made him feel a little older than he should have.

"Yamcha?"

The soft call for him had Yamcha drying his hands on the nearest towel and headed for the doorway to meet his mate halfway. Gohan let himself be pulled into that protective embrace, giggling as Yamcha buried his face in his neck to inhale his scent. He hadn't been gone but a few hours, but that was too long according to Yamcha. He tried not to let it show too much, but not much got past Gohan when he leaned into the welcoming kiss given to him.

"It was killing you, wasn't it."

"You have no idea," Yamcha muttered. He kissed him again for good measure and directed him to sit down in the nearest chair available. It happened to be right next to Pan, still whining heavily from the smack she'd gotten. Gohan didn't have to ask to know why. He saw it when she shoved the game away from her and focused her breathing to not rant about how unfair it was to die from something so lame. He didn't ask her about it and she didn't offer to tell him about it. She did look in his general direction, which was more than she'd done in the past year.

Yamcha moved to intercept the next body coming into the kitchen. He took the bags from her hands and moved to put things away. Chi-chi let him, clearly impressed that he could move without her prompting and a little flattered that he was still referring to her as if she were that Alpha's wife. The dynamic hadn't quite shifted yet, or if it had, Yamcha was just being respectful regardless. Being the mother of his mate did have a lot to do with it, that and she still tended to give him lip for no reason other than to aggravate him. It was taken much more lightly now. Yamcha wasn't on eggshells around the woman and Chi-chi wasn't out to shove his buttons into violent mode again. It had only been a day or so, but it was more than evident that they were on level playing ground when Chi-chi came up from behind him and silently started helping him place things away.

"So…all of you live in this massive place?" she questioned.

"Just me and Gohan right now," Yamcha said. "Goku owns the place, but he tends to come and go…or he did anyhow. Goten still wants to be on his own. I think it's more about the way Gohan smells now than anything."

"What's wrong with the way dad smells?" Pan asked. "He showers like the rest of us."

"You're not going to smell it, dear," Chi-chi said. "You're incapable of smelling it because you weren't trained on scent. Neither was your mother, but she has a better clue of what Yamcha means because she can sense it more."

Videl nodded a bit. "You know how a chain of command works, right kiddo?" Pan nodded this time, a little more confused but eager to hear what this was all about. "Well, this is kind of like that. Goku's the head honcho in charge. His sons naturally fall within succession of one another because of age, if we were to think about it in the human way. However, since they're half saiyan, it's more about the dynamics of smell and submission. It's like the hierarchy of a pack of wolves, but a little different."

"How much different?" Pan asked. "And does this have to do with Yamcha and dad getting together? I thought we went over this already."

"We did, sweetie, but we didn't explain everything to you."

"What more could you have to add to the fact that Dad left you for Yamcha?"

That wasn't what she wanted to say. The underlying tone in that nonchalant question didn't go unnoticed. Pan expected no one to call her on it. She was very surprised to see her grandmother of all people walk up to the table and slam her hand against it, startling Pan into sitting upright and staring into the glaring face of Chi-chi on a mission. "You've had more than two years to get used to the fact," she snapped. "The only person in this room that should be angry about it is your mother, and that was if she didn't know beforehand what she was getting into."

"Like you're one to talk!" Pan snapped back. "You're always riding Yamcha about it!"

"Why I did that is none of your con—"

"Pan, she was trying to rile me up to see how far she could push me."

Chi-chi and Pan stopped their escalating tirade at one another. Yamcha kept putting things away. The tension in the room was sharper than ever, as was the urge to bark at the young one to make her shut up and submit. She wasn't raised to see the signs. It was the only reason Chi-chi backed down and let Yamcha take her place, though he didn't pay much mind to the girl eyeing him warily as he went about his business. Ignoring her like this was his way of keeping his shit together and to keep his mate from anxiously shifting in his seat.

"She wanted to push me," Yamcha said, as if that argument never erupted. "I didn't get that before. I'm not used to how some females act. If it were a male, yes, I may have punched his face in, but it wasn't. It was a female pushing me to assert my dominance…and Gohan's mother for crying the fuck out loud."

Pan winced at his cursing. No one moved to throw a slap at him. "What does that have to do with anything?" And why was it that he could curse as freely as he wanted without being slapped for it?

"Everything." He shut the cabinet door and walked over to the table with a ready glass of orange juice in hand. He handed it off to Gohan and didn't continue until his mate had greedily devoured half of the glass. "She's my mother-in-law. I took her baby boy from her, the second time. Me. A male. More than ten years his senior. Yes, Chi-chi can be mad for it. Videl could be mad for it too. That was her husband, the provider, the father of her child. She certainly was angry for a time."

"And I don't have a right to be?!"

"You do. But you don't know the whole truth. You've never known…and you still wouldn't know if something wasn't going to happen soon."

Something was going to happen? Pan looked to her mother in question. Videl's face was a little wistful if not sad, but happy and excited beneath that exterior. She was vibrating with tension that was going towards something joyous. Pan knew her mother well enough to know that when she got that little quirk on her lips that something relatively good was happening. She didn't dare think that her father and her mother were going to reconcile. That ship sailed the moment Yamcha and Gohan silently announced their intentions to be wed…to their immediate family members who knew about this anyhow.

So it had to be something else.

She hesitantly looked over in her grandmother's direction. Chi-chi's attention was on Gohan. He'd finished off that glass of orange juice and was silently begging for another. Chi-chi wasn't going to let him have it though. Rather, she dug into one of the bags on the floor and pushed a bottle of water into his hands. He sighed at it, but he drank from it anyhow.

"I want sugar…"

"You can't have sugar," Chi-chi admonished. "Not that much and you know it. You're only going to complain later when you can't get the weight off."

"I don't want to think about getting fat…"

"You're not going to get fat," Videl chuckled. "But you are going to put on weight."

"What's the difference?"

"None, but that cushions the word 'fat'."

Gohan snorted.

Pan thought—not for the first time—that they were all insane. "What are you all talking about?"

Her father was the one to sigh, and shift to turn to answer her question. He shut her up with a hand raised to keep her from mouthing off like she tended to do when she wasn't in the mood to hear something she more than likely was going to object to. "Pan…the reason Goten isn't around is the same reason Trunks isn't around," he explained. "They can't be around me without setting Yamcha off. Those two are dominant Betas, and so is Yamcha."

"….dominant Betas?"

"Yes. Saiyans have a similar hierarchy to wolves at a more primal level and a ranking level like our society. Classes are like ours as well, but the primal hierarchy surpasses the social one on all levels. We are like the animal species on this planet, and we do have a system that involves Alphas, Betas and Omegas."

It was certainly news to her ears. She knew roughly about those dynamics, and she knew about the roles they took on. Her grandfather was an Alpha. She knew that from the beginning, and it went without question when the others would fall in line to do as he said when the time came for it. She really didn't see why for a long time, not until she'd gotten a taste of the hidden saiyan underneath the happy go lucky idiot. That saiyan didn't come out that often, but from what she'd been hearing from Bra, he wasn't hiding it anymore.

Still. "Dominant Betas? I thought Betas were the same?"

"They are…and they aren't. Some are more dominant than others," Gohan explained. "While Yamcha isn't quite as powerful as Goten or Trunks, he's still their senior age wise. It's a respect thing…that and while I'm a submissive, I'm still liable to kick their asses if they start anything with him."

"Submissive? Wait…you're not—How is Yamcha more dominant?!" She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Her father, possibly the strongest man she knew outside of her grandfather, was submissive? To Yamcha?! It just didn't make sense! "Yamcha is way weaker than you! If anything, he should be the submissive one!"

"It doesn't work on the scale of power," Yamcha sighed. "If it did, the whole world would have its ass turned up to others at the drop of a fist to the face."

"But you're human!"

"…..not really?"

Pan wouldn't believe it. She shook her head and muttered something about insane people and staring at the screen too long for reality to be messed up like this. No one was getting up to scream "Hey, just fucking with you!" which would have been a welcome thing against the silence of the surrounding adults staring at her or one another. Yamcha moved forward a little, but it was only to lean forward on the table. He took Chi-chi's place in eyeing her down, and she met him move for move…

"Pan."

And she was sitting quicker than ever from her shock more than that sudden urge to sit her ass down before something bad happened. "Oh shit." She grabbed her chest, her heart racing against her ribs. She couldn't stop staring at him, that Yamcha with the slicked back hair and scars on his face like usual, but it wasn't because he was in her face. It was because he demanded attention, demanded her eyes on his, and the fangs that were bared in her direction would snap down on her shoulder and MAKE her SIT if she got up.

It might have been that weird aura of his, too.

"Getting wished back from death is weird," Yamcha said gruffly. "And it's not without its prices. Sometimes the things that are dormant wake up…sometimes those things have to be hidden...sometimes we can't fight those things."

"But…you…"

"I was raised by wolves…I was a beast. I understood your grandfather long before he understood the whole of himself, and when he did understand, he helped me by letting me be myself in his presence. When I died, that human part of me died. The beast in me…the inner wolf….it came back stronger than my human side. I've had years to hone it, to be stronger…and falling for your dad was the **last** thing on my mind." The **_especially at my age_** was not said but noted. "But it happened. We can't just undo it."

She knew all that. She'd had a year to get used to it. It still left a bitter taste in her mouth. "That doesn't explain why Goten and Trunks aren't willing to move in here…or be around you."

"I won't tolerate it."

"What? Because they're betas?!"

"Because they are dominant betas…and anyone of a lower rank around my mate that is UNMATED while he's carrying my child is going to be the start of a fight that will get ugly."

All the air in her lungs deflated and left her unable to breathe as she let that sink into her mind. Child? As in baby? As in her father was…

Chi-chi was practically thrumming with excitement as she let out a shout and hugged Gohan around his shoulders. She'd known without being told, but having it said aloud made it possible for her to play the doting grandma to be who shouldn't have been as calm about this as she was. At least, Pan didn't think so. No, she was sure Chi-chi, her grandmother, mother to her father and once wife to her grandfather, should be freaking out about this. She sure wasn't, and neither was Videl grinning at the display like it was her having the baby. But she wasn't. It was…her father…

She'd heard that right…right?

"Pan, breathe."

It was kind of hard to when no words or air would come out. She tried, but it took a little longer for her brain to override her shock and put her back to breathing rights. "You…I…wait, he—how is that even possible?!" She looked over at her father, still male, not sporting boobs, and there was no indication of anything remotely soft or feminine about him at all! She looked at his stomach and refused to acknowledge the slight rounding of his abs. He could have eaten for all she knew. That was not a baby! "He's a male! And a dominant Beta!"

"I'm a submissive," Gohan corrected. "A submissive Beta. Apparently that changes when someone like me takes on a submissive role."

"…..what?!"

"I would tell you to ask your grandfather," Chi-chi remarked, "But I imagine that he's resetting the dynamics of his family right now."

Pan didn't feel her face turn. "…do I even…want to know…what that means?"

"I'm pretty sure Bra's already told you," Videl said. She reached over and patted her daughter on the shoulder, more amused at her shock than sorry for it. Goku had given them the go ahead to tell people, and she was the first on a short list of people who didn't quite know what was going on. Pan's face scrunched up in open shock and disgust, but it was more at the aspect of her grandfather being a sexually active being….plus his possible bed fellow because come on…

The teenager in her was raging and wanting to run into the shower and bathe her brain at the thought of her grandfather getting busy with Vegeta.

Videl patted her shoulder again. "And this is the good news." Pan didn't want to look at her. She didn't want to and she made herself slump down in her arms to keep from looking to see if her mother was messing with her. She wasn't. He mother would have laughed by now. "Pan…"

"Please don't tell me Grandpa's moving in with us," she moaned.

"He's not."

"Oh thank god."

"You're moving."

"What?!"

"You're moving…in here with him…and your father….and your grandmother. Surprise!"

Yamcha was a little less thrilled about it than Chi-chi, but his mother in law slapped him on the back and politely told him to get over it. He politely proceeded to do just that and gave into the urge to squeeze her senseless in his arms as he dragged her laughing body over to the stove and demanded her help with the cooking.

Pan sat silently, her mind screaming for this to be one strange joke. When her father instinctively rubbed his stomach—in that way expectant mothers did when the subject of the baby came up again—she had the horrible feeling that this joke that was her life was very, very real.

"….shit. OW! MOM the fu—AAAH! Yamcha!"

"Language!" Videl snatched her hand from the back of her daughter's head. Yamcha snatched back the wooden spoon he'd grabbed from where he'd smacked the top of her head and pointed at the sink. "Dishes. They need putting away. **Today**." When she looked at her father, Gohan waved her off to do what was asked of her. She would **never** admit to moving only at the low growl sent in her direction or moving quicker at the threat of that spoon aimed at her again, this time from her grandmother.

She resisted cursing under her breath and settled for moping like the teen she was and loathed being right now.

* * *

**Questions(you may ask) and answers(I fully mean):**

1. Where are Goku and Vegeta? Are they still in the Capsule Corp.?

**_ They are...somewhere else, and no, they aren't in the Capsule Corp._**

2. Is Goku rich?

_** Are **_**you**_** rich?**_

3. Why is Pan moving in with them?

**_ I dunno. _**

4. What the hell is Yamcha?

_**I don't**_** know.**

5. Would you stop with the teasing leave offs for the smexy parts?!

**_Um._**** No.**

Moar soon.

(and don't take the rest personally. Pfft, it's not aimed at anyone I know.)

And yes, there will be more smexy times, and not just with the front. Breathe a little bit. If I were to go about in every chapter going "FUCK ME! HARDER!" with short handed script littered with the words, cock, dick, spit, and suck...Well...that crap gets old. Substance is good. Teasing is great. Reading awesome fiction that has more than just the quick badly written fuck...well, I think I may marry you.

(seriously. I may)

Sorry if I seem...um...blunt. I've been lied to a lot these days through titles with promise. You know that feeling. The feeling of utter disappointment because that title was such an eye grabber and the synopsis itself had promise but when you get in there...oh, when you get in there! It's such a timeless total mind fuck of dialogue that makes no sense and plots that are slapped together with some glue not worth the dollar it was and you're sitting here, wishing, wondering, if you can just *unsee* that fic and get back the four minutes you spent scrolling through it.

It's like seeing a hot dude pull off his pants, and you find out that not only is his piece a **real** cucumber-as in a vegetable from the produce section-he wants to toss your salad with that cucumber and he brought actual ranch dressing for the climax.

WTF.

*sighs* I'm going to stop talking now.

Lying is bad, m'kay?

(Seriously folks...who hasn't felt this way? And if you feel that way about me, well...*shrugs* LOL)


	9. My lips on yours

**AN:**

...I'm working on it.

And before you think everything is hunky dory...just...think again.

* * *

**Chapter 9:** My lips on yours

The tub was becoming a familiar fixture in his life.

It wasn't a tub Vegeta was familiar with quite yet. He knew it was massive, well suited for the equally massive bathroom that it sat in one of the corners of, holding an immense amount of water within its depths. It could have been a small pond for some water fowl, but he sincerely thought that this would just become a bowl of unappetizing duck soup from the heat alone. The oils mixed within these waters wouldn't have made for good eating either. They were made for soothing the soul and settling the mind. Each of the oils had a purpose, and mixed together becoming the mission of smelling like whatever safe haven could smell heavenly. Vegeta was sorely tempted to just sink into the waters and drift for an untold time. The hands currently washing his back wouldn't let him do that. They both knew that he would simply fall asleep and drown from his obvious exhaustion.

He had every right to be exhausted.

Vegeta waited a heartbeat after the water was dumped over his head to risk looking over his shoulder. The body behind him, inches away and on his knees in the water, wasn't too busy in his task of grooming to look down at him from above. Red and gold rimmed irises were dilated in pleasure, pleased at the relaxed nature of his submissive as he allowed himself to be groomed without fuss. Vegeta couldn't try even if he wanted. The fight within him was more than gone right now. He didn't even remember was it was like to resist.

It had a lot to do with this boneless feeling he had in his body.

"Are you feeling better?"

And the sweet sting nestled between his cheeks. "Yes…"

"Good."

Goku easily sank back into the water and brought Vegeta to rest flush against him. Vegeta went without fuss, too complacent to complain about the heat of their bodies mingling in a way that should have made him uncomfortable. His head fell sideways, his nose buried against the wet skin of his Alpha rumbling quietly in his amusement. He could understand why. This wasn't the typical behavior expected from the prince of their once proud race.

This was the behavior of a well fucked saiyan who didn't realize that some lumbering behemoths were more than talk when it came to the bedroom.

He hadn't been this sated…ever. Not once. Not even at his own hand. His heats had always ended with him keening for something more, leaving him feeling bereft and robbed of something he couldn't quite see the ends of. That missing feeling could be assumed to be a body for him to curl up against, but he wasn't longing for that type of company. Bodies were readily available and willing to curl up after a good round of messing around. He'd had his share of bodies. They were too warm, too messy, or too clingy, or a mix of the three. Bodies had no tact. They were ridiculously giddy or too out of it to know their boundaries, and more often than not they left him to wonder why in the hell they thought it was customary to sleep on his back. Of course there were those bodies that were quick to deny themselves that joy, rolling out of the bed and jerking on their pants so fast it was as if they hadn't done a thing at all. Those bodies were amusing, but he never thought much of them or their fleeing backs. None of those bodies, not one, had done the job of keeping him so sated that he had to be dragged—carried really—into the bathroom for a bath.

He could break it down into many reasons why—inexperience being at the top of the list on their part—but a good bit of it had to do with what would/could happen if he was caught by a male during the wrong time. It had almost happened once, an encounter that had been fueled with a drink or seven, but he wasn't gone enough to let the inner omega within him overrule the common sense of why it was a bad idea. A lot had fueled that excursion, and it was around that time he decided it was better that he keep to himself and mind himself.

Fat lot of good that did.

Regardless of the past and his inability to reach nirvana, he was in it now and unwilling to simply let it escape him. This feeling…it was settled in his bones and singing songs of praise that allowed him to easily be maneuvered to rest in Goku's lap. He would have snored if he wasn't trying to keep himself awake to make sure this wasn't some torturous dream. Well, that and the soft probe of careful fingers searching for any type of injury to his nether regions. There was no injury to be had aside the light sting of over usage at his own insistence. He grimaced as he was forced to move his legs a little wider, the sore appendages unwilling to do more than necessary. His reward was a firmer touch, soothing more so than stimulating, not that it would have escalated to another level either way. Vegeta was worn out, yes, but he was pretty sure that Goku was just as tired.

Maybe.

He stiffened and immediately relaxed against the finger sliding into the slick warmth of his female genitalia. It wasn't more than a gentle way to taper off the remaining heat aches that would come when he least wanted. It was slightly swollen and still rather sensitive, but the blunt finger gently stroking his inner walls felt good in a soothing way. It was as if the Alpha was willing that piece of him to calm down, to keep him off of that frantic edge that had him ass up not even an hour ago and wailing…obscene things…into the bed as Goku took care of his needs.

Goku had stated that he wasn't going to fuck Vegeta, or rather, Vegeta had surmised it. Announced it. Fully expected it. He was right…halfway. Goku didn't fuck him.

Not "that" part of him anyhow.

That part had been licked, sucked, teased, and devoured until Vegeta couldn't see straight, and even when he was looking up into the double vision of white pleasure with Goku's face looking down at him, he couldn't quite bring himself to hate that smile, or hate how carefully Goku had rolled him over to gently undo him from the inside out. He took his sweet time memorizing all of Vegeta's spots, even ones he didn't know that would make him scream—that behind the knee thing totally shocked the hell out of him—working him up into a crescendo that would come to a head but never shove him over that edge. He'd cursed, demanding satisfaction, but Goku would back off and start again…and again…and again….

Vegeta sleepily mouthed the thumb wiping at his kiss bruised lips. He was too tired to blush, too tired to get up and scream at himself, and too tired to feel self-conscious about the last three days. Goku had gone out of his way to work Vegeta into this groaning mess of a being that was nearly sobbing with want. He had been laid open, spread out before Goku gently licking his way in, fingers dancing on his prostate and sitting on the ends of his sanity. He wouldn't go any faster, wouldn't add and pressure than the gentle but infuriating dance he'd come up with between his tongue and fingers, and Vegeta, for the life of him, wanted his heart to stop beating so damn hard against his chest. His cock was on his stomach red and angry, untouched and leaking hotly on his overheated skin. He was trembling, shaking from his bones, wanting to scream but unable to and frustrated past coherency. He was going to die like this.

The omega in him shoved him to do what he needed. It came flying out of nowhere, an instinct that normally he would have rebelled against. He gritted his teeth for a second, but that desire to resist left him and he became this boneless mass that simply let the Alpha below him do what he wanted. The moment his body molded itself into the bed, Goku's soft chuff against him with the word "Finally" slipping from him was the last thing he registered for a solid half hour.

When he woke up the first time, he was sure he was going to die. When he woke up the second time, flush against that broad chest and filled to the brim with that massive cock sunken into the depths of his backside and still hard as steel, he thought he had died.

Goku took pleasure in making sure he kept thinking that.

It made his heart do something funny each time he was wrung out and shivering wrapped in Goku's arms. Most people would shove away from the heat of mingled bodies and lay out wherever they were to catch their breath and more than likely do it again. Maybe. It wasn't like that for them, which was weird. Vegeta had immediately thought that once Goku had his fill he would roll over and snore like the best of them. How in the hell was he to know that the overgrown male was anything but the typical male? He'd been more than surprised when Goku didn't get off of him. He had pressed himself deeper and mouthed that mark on Vegeta's neck muttering softly. The words didn't quite make sense, not at first, but that didn't matter much. Goku's arms would slip around Vegeta and they would ground him, forcing him back down into a tolerable coherency. They would lie there, saying nothing, just breathing…and Vegeta would find himself lost in the gentle caress of fingers on his shoulders, or in the way Goku's eyes demanded his attention, light touches on his face and lips until one of them surged forward and started the fire anew.

It was hard to describe, not that he would ever try. Anyone asking him about this—feelings—would get punched in the **throat**. Feelings were messy. Feelings got people in trouble. No, he was not thinking about feelings. No matter how much he felt like goo sitting here now and looking every bit like the content whore he felt like. He was still in the process of having signed over the rest of his life to this unseen unheard Alpha…sort of. The mark on his shoulder was like a proposal in a way…only without the rings and dating, and proper etiquette and shit.

Really, he'd been on this planet WAY TOO LONG.

"And what makes you say that?"

He'd said that out loud? Fuck. "Just…things." He looked up from the hand on his cheek and stared into the laughing eyes of Goku already figuring out what he meant. "Don't…mind me…"

"It's not minding you that got us here."

_Yeah, well fuck. _"…Are you going to bite her?" They were not, NOT, talking about that other thing. Nope. It was weird enough now. He'd deal with that whole not knowing—insert a monumental amount of shit here—later. He half expected Goku to drag up the issue anyhow, but he really needed to not expect what he thought when it came to this Alpha. He never delivered, and Vegeta couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a confusing thing that could potentially be bad. Either way, he felt the warm breath of his answer on his lips before they were stolen twice.

"Nope."

And strangely enough, that was fine with Vegeta. "Okay." He had other things to think about now…heavier things; things that just made his head hurt a little if he thought about it in just the right amount of blinding light. A lot of it had to do with here, now, and the unspoken, not that they had spoken much, at all really, over the past three days. Talking was as awkward as feelings. Words—_yeah, no words right now please_.

"I need to talk to you about some things."

_Just…fuck my life_, **please**. Vegeta resisted groaning openly. "About?"

"It's nothing bad. Relax."

It was a little hard to relax when "talking" led to things that just need not be discussed. He willed himself to do just that though, still too tired to rile himself much more outside of his head. "I'm listening."

"Finally?"

Vegeta found some energy to lift his head and stare at Goku and his second head, because damn. Did he just crack a joke? A **mean** one at that? Vegeta was pushing his deliria on the heat of the bath and not on Goku's whim that had him chuckling deeply. The slow drag of Goku's finger in other areas kept him from remarking too much. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, but to be on the other side of it? It stung some.

"And here I was thinking you were just hard of hearing."

And Goku wasn't going to apologize or make like he didn't mean it.

Vegeta was colored speechless and begrudgingly impressed. "Shut up." Mostly.

"Yeah, no. Seriously though, we do need to discuss something."

"Like what?"

"Like the living arrangements."

Wait. "I thought—"

Goku cut him off with a slight wave of his free hand. "No, we're not talking about that. That's **solved**. I had all your stuff moved over here while we were occupied." That was putting it mildly, but, they both knew what it meant so, no need to spell it out right? "By the way, I burnt every piece of clothing you own." Vegeta was content to just gape at him. There was no hint of him joking in the least. "As soon as we're done in this bath, I'm taking you to get new clothing."

This was possibly going to be the stupidest question he would ever allow to shove itself out of his mouth, but Vegeta just had to hear the answer to this one. "Why…the **fuck**…did you burn all my clothes?" he asked as calmly as he could. "And what the hell am I supposed to wear if all of my clothes are gone?"

"Because you're not available…and they didn't smell like me."

Huh. "You're insane."

"No…just an Alpha who isn't going to let anyone believe for an instant that you belong to anyone outside of **me**." He snatched Vegeta's chin in his hand and squeezed lightly, fangs agleam in the light as the level four peered out and dared him to say otherwise. Vegeta had no intentions of it. He was still too shell-shocked to really do more than gape and follow the motions of a firm kiss on his cheek a moment later. "Let's not cause a blood bath because some randy asshole thinks he has a shot in the dark, okay?" The words were low and heavy with promise, churning a fire in his belly that made that soothing touch lean towards the same flame that had burned them into cinders not that long ago. "And don't worry; I have something for you to wear."

Vegeta could hear someone choking on their tongue. He was pretty sure it wasn't him. For the sake of being noisy and making sure he wasn't completely lost in the head, he turned his gaze to the doorway.

He wanted to drown.

"Oh…fuck."

He wanted to drown now. Could he drown? Was it possible? Would Goku give him the satisfaction of killing himself in this bathwater? He wanted to ask, but Goku was too busy lazily turning his head to the doorway and not giving a rat's ass about who was in the doorway. His granddaughter still caught in the headlights of them noticing her and not sure of where to put her feet to turn herself away and out, just stood there. Speechless.

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about, somewhat," Goku sighed. "I'm moving Pan in with us."

"What?!" Vegeta was all set to say it again, but that snapped that girl out of it and had her up in arms with the indignant whine of "WHY?!" echoing his "WHAT?!" because neither of them understood the logic of what Goku was suggesting. Why was Goku moving her in here, and what was the point? The child was nearly grown and living with her mother while her father was redefining his life and—oh. Vegeta clicked his mouth shut.

Vegeta didn't need an explanation. This was really happening and this is probably what he wanted to talk about. Redefinition. The big oaf was restructuring his family to what was satisfactory and—shit was going to hit the fan. Goku wasn't going to explain it to her right now. He made that clear with a dismissive wave of his hand in his granddaughter's direction. When she didn't move fast enough, he said it loud and clear with a look that clearly said "Get the fuck out sometime **_today_**."

It was amazing what a simple look would do. A growl? Vegeta watched the girl flee when the gravity of what happened hit her so hard she tripped halfway out of the door. He looked at the floor, just to make sure she didn't piss herself.

It earned him a hearty laugh and a kiss with the words, "You're much smarter than you think," which did **_not_** make Vegeta's heart do something funny as they resumed as if nothing happened. It was just his embarrassment. Yes, that's what he cou—would keep telling himself against the purr of happiness coming from the Alpha. He could swear to hearing the door being yanked close, but he didn't see who did it. He was too busy moaning into the air as his ass and that massive thing between Goku's legs got reacquainted.

* * *

The tension in the air wasn't quite as thick as it had been initially when the boys arrived. It was still there, though it was more directed at Trunks than Goten. Goten did his best not to fidget under the weight of that gaze, but Trunks…Trunks would stupidly meet it every time. Gohan would mentally groan into his hands and Goten would whine silently and then Chi-chi would put her hand on the back of Goten's neck to calm him down and shove Trunks against his head to get him to stop before bad things happened. He would stop, but the laser eye he sent to Yamcha sitting with his hackles up and next to his mate trying not to fidget himself just wasn't making anything better.

Bra, silent and staring at Pan's morose face, looked at Videl sitting quietly with a book next to Gohan. She looked up, stared at her daughter, then at Bra, smiled a little in reassurance, and went back to her book.

What in the holy fuck?

Yamcha, too pent up, got up from his spot. "I'm going to get a beer," he sighed. "Gohan, you want something while I'm up?"

"Just the usual," Gohan sighed. The usual these days consisted of crackers on top of crackers and some juice. It was the only thing he could keep down with relative ease while his stomach churned thanks to the flux of pregnancy hormones in his system. He knew it was worrying for Yamcha, but after talking with his mom he was sure that it wasn't anything overly concerning. He moved expectantly into the warmth of Yamcha's vacant seat, curling himself around the pillow he'd been lying on. It was a silent excuse to press his hand against the growing swell resisting sweetly on his abs, a tizzy of happiness overwhelming him and thus making his mate a little more torn between that utter happiness and his irritation over the two sitting across from them, particularly Trunks still glaring at him like Yamcha wouldn't launch himself over there.

He was tempted to prove him wrong for the sake of fucking with the kid, but he didn't need them knowing what he'd kept to himself for this long. Not yet. So rather than glare back, he ignored Trunks, walked off, and willed himself to go get that beer before he decided to do something stupid.

He missed Puar for this reason. He wouldn't have cared and messed with Trunks anyhow.

The tension died down considerably once he was out of sight. Goten slumped forward but didn't move from his spot. He knew better. The last time he'd tried it—well in his defense he hadn't known that they were mated, and it was **_his_** brother! It hadn't been much more than the usual tackling hugs they gave one another, but Gohan had stepped back and tried to warn him off seconds before Yamcha stepped into the picture and knocked the wind out of him.

Goten still winced at the discreet blow he'd been given and how much it stung for days after. He'd been hit like that before, but the shock of it being Yamcha still hadn't worn off. Trunks, still sitting stiffly in his seat, had seen it for himself. A fight had nearly broken out between the two of them almost three months ago around the time this happened, and the tension between them hadn't dwindled at all. Goten really didn't understand why they would be fighting for this long. He'd apologized, and Gohan had told him it wasn't anything he did intentionally. Goten wasn't sure about it, or he didn't really **_understand_** it until today when he'd been dragged here by his mother.

Chi-chi hadn't done much more than called him. He'd been out and about with some friends and Valese when he'd gotten the call, and for his mother to call him—well, here he sat. He didn't ignore her calls. His mother rarely called him unless it was important these days. He'd answered the phone expecting the world to end, but his mother only said the one thing he'd feared more than some other rogue idiot come to claim the planet.

_"Your father demands your presence."_

She'd then proceed to tell him where to go, as he didn't know his father's current address. Goku was a hard person to find when he didn't want to be found, and Goten, having known him since eight, realized that this was just a quirk of his that needed to be tolerated. Goku found them, not the other way around. It was especially true since his mother and father had decided that being apart was better than being together, which had shocked them all considerably. He was still dealing with the blow of that when his brother, married, with a kid, and apparently straight as an arrow literally came into his own heritage and was now married—mated—to one of their Dad's oldest friends. It happened along the lines of a couple of years, but it still was a little strange to think of it as normal now.

They came together on their own. In passing, through phone calls, in school or wherever, they came together as life meant for them to meet. When his father summoned them, it was never usually a good thing. The last time…well, the last time resulted in a grand space galaxy quest he was supposed to be on but a certain niece of his decided was better off without him. How Trunks had not killed her was still beyond him. At the moment Trunks was busily trying to get himself killed. Regardless of it, Goten really didn't like it when his father summoned them together. It meant something major was happening, that change was imminent, and that someone wasn't going to like whatever was happening.

He'd come straight here, instinctively tense the moment he realized Yamcha was here as well. Trunks showed up with Bra not three minutes behind him. He hadn't asked them why they were here. He knew that Chi-chi had probably summoned them over here as well. Trunks looked like he'd rather be at work, and Bra was a little lost about why she was running after her brother inside the house that they hadn't known anything about. Goten surely didn't know, and told her as much when his mother greeted them at the door and directed them right into the living room.

He saw Gohan first. He lifted a hand in greeting until he saw Yamcha sitting aside his brother, doing his best to ignore them as a whole. He noticed Videl sitting there like it was no big thing and Pan coming back from where ever looking like she'd seen a ghost. It might have been fine if Trunks hadn't come into the room, snorted in Yamcha's direction and sparked up that tension even MORE. Chi-chi however, wasn't tolerating it. It was the first slap of several against that purple head as they waited for Goku to emerge from wherever.

Now that Yamcha was out of the way for a few moments, Goten sniffed the air cautiously. He was aware that the smell of his brother had changed, but there was something different about it. It didn't necessarily click until his mother had shoved a pillow behind Gohan's back. He stiffened a little in his seat, unsure but unmistaken. He looked sideways at Pan, and she was too busy burying her face in her hands to see the look of question on his face.

He couldn't take it a moment longer. "Okay, why is no one talking?!"

"Because I'm reading," Videl snorted. "And we have a grumpy Yamcha on our hands."

"I don't see why he's so damn irritable," Trunks muttered. "It's not like anyone hit him."

This time Bra rolled her eyes. "Are you still going on about that? It was a misunderstanding!" she cried tiredly. "And he didn't hit you, he hit Goten, and Goten understood WHY unlike your stubborn ass."

"He didn't have to **hit** him. He should have more control than that!"

"And you really should stop challenging him openly," Goten snapped. "You're not making this easier for anyone. At ALL," he said when Trunks opened his mouth to protest. Goten shoved his hand against his mouth and told him to zip it with a look. "Look, DUDE, you know newly mated Betas want no one around their mates. The only ones that they tolerate are the familial elders, and even MOM was giving him shit."

"Wait, how come he can curse without getting his head knocked off?!" Pan cried.

"Seriously, Pan? I'm OLDER than you and my mouth isn't a garbage disposal twenty-four seven. And we're not talking about your mouth; we're talking about dumbass here pushing buttons that just don't need to be pushed! Mom does it enough!"

"Did," Chi-chi corrected. "I was pushing his buttons intentionally. **_Was_**."

"What do you care about it anyhow?" Trunks snapped at Goten. "He's a beta like us! Weaker even! Why are you submitting to him like he's stronger anyhow?!"

"Because you idiot, he's hiding in plain sight."

Trunks stiffened at the voice coming from behind him. Even he knew when to shut up when it counted, and right now he was aching not to scramble from his seat and move a safe distance from his father glaring holes into him. He hadn't seen or heard from the man since the cook out the other day, but he'd known something was amiss three days ago when movers had come to grab his father's things and take them out of the house. He hadn't thought of it as anything more than his mother being mad at him for something spectacular this time, but she seemed resigned to something, saddened and a virtual zombie according to his sister. He hadn't had the time to find out what was going on, but it looked like he wasn't going to have to wait.

He did turn around, cautiously albeit, but he wasn't prepared to see the level four version of Goku standing behind his father like it was no big deal that he was furred out, fanged up and puffing out his chest like he was going to wail on someone for no other reason than being looked at funny. Goten immediately bent his head in submission. Trunks was a little slow to do the same, but he wasn't used to being forced into it with a look.

Yamcha chose that moment to show up again. Beer in one hand and Gohan's request in the other, he sauntered back over and plopped back down into his seat with Gohan pressed giddly into his side. He was possibly the happiest person in this room, which made no sense to anyone who didn't know the reason why. Videl grinned at them and shoved her book to the side. Pan moaned back into her hands and tried to hide the blush creeping up her neck into her face. Bra was as confused as ever and Goten was itching to get out of his seat and get over to his brother because that happiness only confirmed what he was thinking and it was making Trunks even more irritable because he DIDN'T get it. Chi-chi slapped him upside his head again.

None of it made a lick of sense.

"Okay, can someone explain what's happening?" Bra asked tiredly. "Before someone dies?"

"No one's dying," Goku announced. "But, we are changing a few things…and rather than have this dramatic build up like usual, I'll let Vegeta tell you what's happening." Vegeta noticeably groaned despite Goku moving to plant a firm kiss on the side of his neck. The smaller saiyan wasn't amused at being left to take care of this, but it was a part of this change Goku was talking about. He felt his son's jaw dropping and Pan's face light itself anew. Goten didn't look surprised and his daughter…she looked like she'd figured out life's answers and didn't know what to do with herself now.

Kids.

"Dad?"

He was **not** going to cave in because his son decided to use the "dad" card. "It's complicated," Vegeta sighed. "But it's like this. Chi-chi isn't in charge anymore." He looked sideways at Chi-chi and wanted to plant his face on the floor at that gleeful smile she sent his way. She would be happy about it. "Kakorrot…has decided that it's high time…he claimed his rightful…**mate**."

"Don't sound so excited about it."

"This is a bit embarrassing you jerk, so let me do this my way!"

That got him a fanged smirk of approval and a pleased nod from the taller saiyan. "Carry on."

"Mate?" Trunks asked; his voice a pitch higher than it should be. Hysteria could be heard in his throat as he tried to swallow that without swallowing his tongue. It wasn't working well. "What do you mean mate?! **_You_**?!"

Was it really all that hard to swallow? Wait—

"You have a problem with that?!"

If Vegeta wanted to be honest, there was a huge problem with that. No one was stupid enough to call Goku on his choices without getting mauled and Vegeta liked being on the '_not-mauled-__**viciously**_' list. Did Trunks not see the level four saiyan currently sitting behind him asking—daring him—to repeat his outburst, because really? Yes, everyone was thinking it, even Vegeta, but he wasn't going to question it outwardly, gape, and turn seven shades of this green that clashed with purple hair.

His son was **not** smart sometimes. "Trunks…**shut** **_up_** before you piss him off."

"But—ow!"

Chi-chi moved her hand from the back of his head. "He said shut up. Carry on Vegeta."

This was getting too weird. "Whatever. The bottom line is this: Chi-chi is not the Alpha's mate, I am. And that's really all I can tell you," because he really didn't know what else to tell them. It was hard trying to compress everything that entailed and meant. It was so broad and they—the kids staring at him like he lost his mind—didn't even realize just what Chi-chi did. Vegeta didn't even realize what she did, but that's because she was good at it and made it look like it was normal.

Chi-chi was beaming a little when Vegeta glanced her way. "You'll get the hang of it," she assured. "Telling the kids to shut up is part of it."

"Ooookay."

"Wait, I don't…wait, what?" The hysteria in Trunks voice was at an all-time high, and he wasn't above correcting himself for the sake of male bravado or whatever it wanted to be called. He looked from Goku to Vegeta, from Vegeta to Chi-chi, and finally landed on his best friend since he could remember only to reel back a little at the shift in his face. Goten, sweet lovable loyal Goten, stopped looking like the innocent kid he played and let loose a wild smirk that could echo his father's in all ways. He straightened himself out only to lean over the couch with his arms folded beneath him, ignoring Trunks and his hysteria as he grinned Vegeta's way.

Vegeta decided that he didn't like that grin. It mirrored his father's way too much, and it meant something that he wasn't seeing outside of the obvious. "What…am I missing?"

"When are we moving in?"

"...what do you mean moving in—oh shit."

Now would be a good time to remember certain things that he hadn't thought about since he was young and trying to keep out of a certain bastard's hands. He hadn't thought about his own culture and his own issues outside of necessary times in so long that it took much longer than usual to remember this certain quirk that happened within families within all classes. He looked back at Goku, wondering where he'd found it out.

Then he berated himself for being such an idiot. Goku had died how many times? There wasn't much to do when one was dead outside of train and visit the halls of history, and that place was massive. Of course no one else really knew about it, but Vegeta had been there once and was not pressed to go see about the customs of home world or the ugly truth of how things panned out. Goku had either done that or…he really was just following his instincts.

Vegeta had a feeling it was a mix of the two.

"Dad?"

Vegeta looked sideways at his son. Of course he didn't understand. He wasn't raised to understand and that was his fault. Vegeta then understood the reason why he was standing here now before the kids, an expectant saiyan and his mate, and the former leader of the brood that was sitting collectively together. That didn't mean he liked it or knew what to do with their clueless faces.

He did, however, decidedly cause a bit of pandemonium when he said aloud, "I'm Kakorrot's mate, and by proxy you're now his as if he sired you himself." Trunks and Bra's faces tightened in mixture of horrified confusion. Oh, it got better. "You're staying for the year…in order to redefine the order of things, whether you like it or not."

* * *

I made the kids...a little more realistic in their reactions. Come on, not everyone can be in line with this.

Goten, yeah, but he's adorable and his father's son. So.

Drama anyone?


	10. The order of things

**AN:**

And...here's the drama.

* * *

**Chapter 10:** The order of things

Vegeta had seen many things in his life.

"What the fuck are you doing!? He's—shit!"

He had seen good things, and he had seen things that could make a person shit themselves.

"Damn it, stop moving!"

He'd actually seen someone do that. Shit themselves. It wasn't pretty. It didn't smell pleasant either.

"There's no way I'm losing to you!"

So it wasn't really something to categorize as amazing or horrid when he found himself sitting outside of this huge home outside of the city, similar to the one he'd used to live in with Chi-chi but much bigger and hidden well in the forestry that was surrounding them. This was their home for the year, but he wasn't thinking about it or leaving city life right now. He was too busy watching another event in his life unfold, staring upwards with a little bit of awe and reluctant disappointment.

"Agh!"

And just like that, he was staring down at the body before him, sighing as he fought the urge to tell that body the seven different things that went horridly wrong just now.

His son blinked stupidly up at him because of the lack of commentary on his part.

No father wanted to ever feel that burning vomiting sensation in the back of his throat at the sight of his son failing miserably at something. Vegeta, for the most part, was always frustrated at how easy going his son could be about things, even serious things. He tended to be a little cocky if not bullheaded, and he could safely blame a lot of it on himself. There wasn't going to be an inner monologue about his arrival of that thought without it jerking the back of his spine out of his ass. He'd had years to see it, but he was too worried about other things to really do anything about it. He was content with the fact that his son could defend himself. That should have been enough for any father.

Goku certainly didn't think so. He was on the ground and lifting Trunks up by his collar and forcing him back into the arena that had been set up within the air. Trunks wisely didn't mouth off this time. He was still twitching from the way Goku had grabbed him by the neck and none too politely told him to shut up. He said some other things, but Trunks was too stunned to really hear them properly. This time he got the hint, tugged himself out of the "helping" embrace, and leapt back up into the air where Yamcha was waiting.

Goten was waiting as well, but he was on Yamcha's side, flexing his wrists and settling comfortably into his familiar stance. Trunks' steady disbelief was waning into disgust. He'd been so incensed at the thought that Yamcha was stronger than him that he'd openly called him out on it. Yamcha wasn't going to take the bait, but Goku, meddling stronger than them all Goku, had told Yamcha to put Trunks in his place. Trunks cricked his neck to the left and right, regretting his words in the house not an hour before. That didn't stop him from taking on a defensive posture, on high alert from seemingly all angles.

Vegeta sighed outwardly this time. "Idiot."

Trunks was on high alert all right…he was on alert for Goten. What he got was a swift jab to the face from Yamcha moving much too fast for someone like him, or what Trunks thought he was. He was reeling backwards, not ready for the next three blows to his face and the knee that followed. It didn't just sting. It HURT. It drew blood. Trunks broke free of that simple assault and wiped at his mouth, smearing the red substance on his face as he snarled in complete disbelief. He still wasn't ready to believe that someone like Yamcha, a human, and a weaker beta, was besting him in something he clearly excelled at.

And therein lay the problem.

"So, how long has he been like this?" he asked Gohan casually. He really didn't need to know the answer but small talk was better than watching failure being beaten into submission. His son wasn't a failure…what he'd been taught wasn't up to snuff and Goku was kindly pointing it out by making him watch. He was also teaching his boy a lesson in humility, something that Vegeta readily, admittedly sucked at. He wasn't due for his initial freak out for another couple of hours, so he settled into his new role and regarded his newly adopted boy lain out on the lawn chair in an attempt to soak up some sun.

Gohan lifted his glassed and shrugged. "Since the last time he died, I think?" He thought it over and couldn't recall anything better, so he settled for that answer and sat up a little. "When he was wished back, he said that the inner beast within him made him different somehow. It wasn't noticeable to us…apparently it was to my dad and he's been helping him hone it ever since."

"So Kakorrot's been training him in secret."

"It wasn't a secret. We just…didn't **acknowledge** it. Besides," Gohan said, lowering his voice a little, "Yamcha was a bit of a loner. It's not like he had a reason to just up and pop up and scream to everyone that he wasn't all human."

"…wise move."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've said about him."

"Yeah? Don't get used to it."

Usually someone would have frowned at that. Gohan didn't. He gave him a soft chortle and settled back down into the lawn chair he was laying in. He was under strict orders not to move outside of going to the bathroom, and even If he had to do that he had to let someone know. Vegeta could not understand the reasons why Yamcha was so clingy to the young half breed before now. It wasn't really any of his business and he didn't ask to know. Goku, however, noticed his confusion earlier that day and let him in on the little secret of the over protective cling-fest that was Yamcha and why Gohan was lapping it up.

They were trying not to freak out.

Vegeta couldn't quite imagine the loss of a child he never knew. It wasn't that he wouldn't, he physically could not do it without being violently ill in a way that shocked him severely for a couple of minutes at a time. So far, he'd blanked out twice. The second time was a little less volatile than the first, in which he successfully didn't shake and swallow the vomit back down with the scent of utter disgust and disappointment and anger he didn't see why **he** needed to feel. It wasn't like he was the one miscarrying.

But he understood Yamcha's stance a little better. It was another reason to add to the list that was growing of why he wasn't correcting his son as he steadily got his tail handed to him.

"Vegeta?"

The smaller saiyan turned from the fight above and found his eyes on Chi-chi. She had a glass in hand, one she handed to him filled to the brim with sweet tea. He took it with a light word of thanks, sipping the top off as she sat herself down at his feet and patted his drawn up knees. "Are you all right?"

"In what manner?" Because seriously, who was all right with this? She must have been able to read his mind or his face or whatever, because she gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand this time. "Chi-chi…"

"He's not infallible you know." She looked over at Goku as he leapt upwards into the air snatch Goten from the melee and let Trunks and Yamcha duke it out. Goten pouted, but he didn't argue. "He does have his points that are more annoying than others, but who doesn't?"

If it were anyone else, another time, another place…if he was indeed just a prince and not this meshed up thing that was a bundle of emotionally constipated mental issues, he might have told her something else; something not pleasant, something to start a fight, or something that would have her gaping at him for a solid ten minutes. "…this isn't easy for me," is what he said instead, putting down the glass before he leaned forward to rest his head on his knees. "I don't know why he wants someone **like** me." Who knew someone better than themselves? Yes, denial was a river in Egypt, but who could really lie to themselves about their nature without being truly touched in the head?

Chi-chi laced her fingers in his hair and sighed quietly. "You need to see it for yourself to understand."

That would help. It was a shame that his brain didn't comprehend aside the constant stream of, "I don't want to be anyone else's mistake," which he said aloud, unintentionally, and to his utter dismay. He wanted to take back the words as soon as they left him, but like most things in life, what was done was done.

There was no sudden snatching from his seat by the scruff of his neck like he expected. There was no disgruntled growl or some misplaced piece of anger taken out on a tree or something just as vulnerable. In fact, nothing happened, nothing aside Chi-chi muttering something about getting her hands on his hair as she scratched his scalp softly. He may have let her do that, and he may have dozed a little from that strangely comforting touch…at least until he realized that this was something more than being ungodly weird.

Her heartbeat was sure and steady, and not because of a mental trick she was putting it use. She was honestly at ease, unafraid, and participating in a primal tradition of "grooming" the Alpha's mate. It was a way of bonding for those within a group that had been redefined, a way to assure that the Alpha's mate was indeed in charge and that all questions, concerns, and answers hit him or her first. Vegeta was beginning to remember more and more of his customs as the hours ticked by, and he wondered not for the first time if Goku had gone to find them out, or remembered them instinctively.

Gohan sat up holding himself a little. Chi-chi and Vegeta visibly tensed for a second but relaxed when Gohan lay back down muttering under his breath about settling pains. Apparently they weren't the only ones who'd seen it. It didn't take long for Yamcha, mostly unscathed, to pop in besides his mate and inquire with a look if indeed everything was all right. Gohan glanced back at him, grinned, and rubbed his belly. The world was fine and their kid wasn't moving from its spot.

The next thing anyone knew, Yamcha was sailing backwards from a foot to his face.

Gohan was scrambling to get up, but Chi-chi kept him settled down and looked towards Vegeta. The smaller Saiyan was still staring in disbelief that it had happened, and that he was staring at the after image of his son moving to prove a point that didn't need to be proven. He moved before he could properly think about it, the innate fear of what would happen driving him to move and grab Trunks angrily by the back of his shirt and slam his fist into the side of his head, because seriously, what in the hell good was a brain if someone didn't USE IT?!

Trunks took it like he usually did; with a fair amount of shock and holding his head to stop the ringing. Vegeta hadn't pulled his punches since Trunks had turned fifteen, and while he'd gotten used to them, that didn't mean they never hurt anymore. He stumbled a little, but didn't move more than to stare at his father completely insane with fear and rage that didn't make any more sense to Vegeta than it did to Trunks. Yet, Vegeta understood things his boy didn't, things that needed to be said aloud. It was no one's fault but his own, and he was beginning to see why Goku had done things the way he chose.

"Are you in-fucking-sane?!" Vegeta all but roared. "Did you not see what you just DID?!"

"What I did?!" Trunks spat. "We were sparring! I took an opening and used it to my advantage, or is that not what you've taught me to do?!"

Vegeta ignored the burning ache in his chest and snatched his son by his shirt to yank him close. "Listen to me you little cocky shit," he hissed, "You're going to get yourself KILLED and I am not wishing you back! You just hit Gohan's MATE in front of him!"

"And? He should be able to defend himself in front of his mate, correct?!"

"Yamcha was checking in on Gohan! And in case you haven't looked in a mirror, you're the one sporting all the damn bruises!" He shoved his son away from him. He needed to breathe. He needed to regain his center. "You just disrespected the Alpha's SON by attacking his mate in front of him!"

"Not this Alpha shit again."

"Trunks!"

"No! You don't get to tell me shit about who does what!" Trunks spat at him. "Not when you sure as shit don't follow what anyone else says or does!"

"We're not talking about me!"

"Aren't we?! Am I seriously the only one who does not understand or see the reason WHY this is happening, or why you're so readily accepting it!?" He just about screeched the last part, hands thrown up in the air in complete disgust and unable to bring himself back down to a level that didn't let his mouth run without his brain navigating. "Not one damn thing about this is worth thinking about because it's stupid! Goku is not in charge because he says so!"

"Trunks, it's more complicated than that—"

"And you know what?" he snapped, rounding on his father quicker than he'd slammed his foot into Yamcha's face, "Since when are you Goku's **_bitch_**?!"

Vegeta heard the collective gasp and inhaled.

He needed to just not give a shit about centers and inner yen and just let his son have it like he should have done when he was young, dumb, and still impressionable.

So. He did.

The slap that resounded through the trees stunned everyone into not breathing.

Trunks tentatively raised his hand to his face, the sting of that last blow hurting less than the betrayed look on Vegeta's face. He didn't know…he couldn't have known, but the implications didn't make it any less tolerable. Omegas were the equivalent to that more often than not, and he just could not, would not see himself in that role no matter how it might be labeled. His son did not know though, and he wouldn't know. Vegeta was dead set against telling his son what he was and be demeaned further than this. Rather than tell him outright, Vegeta shook his head and ran, willing his chest to stop burning with the weight of defeat and worthlessness hitting him from all sides.

"Nice going dumbass."

Trunks turned around to see Yamcha on his feet, looking no worse for wear than he had before he'd gone flying with that kick to the face. He hadn't said it though. He didn't need to say it. It was all in his face and the sheer contempt aimed at him as Yamcha readily grabbed hold of Gohan rushing over to him to see if he was all right. He shushed Gohan, more worried about their little one jutting out in plain sight when he pressed his hands to his stomach. It was a soft subtle rounding that hadn't been noticeable lying down, but it was hard to ignore now that Gohan was up, in plain sight of Trunks, and announcing that little thing they were waiting to share without meaning to.

He belatedly felt Goten slam his fist into his shoulder. At that moment, he was too busy watching Goku rush after Vegeta and feeling his spine snap to attention when Yamcha, '_weaker than thou so obviously inferior _**Yamcha**', bade him not to move with a hard look that made it difficult to breathe.

* * *

He couldn't have run that far. His lungs hurt—burned really—and his legs were like jello, but that was mostly owed to his prior exhaustion and his tripping every fifty feet over some upturned piece of forest determined to bring him down. The last thing he'd run into had him seeing red; the blood easing down the side of his face as he ignored the gash in his head and kept moving out of the way of everything that wanted to suffocate him. Trees rushed by in a blur of green and brown, the occasional branch reaching out to snag something on him. He would rip himself free or snatch that branch clear, tossing the limb to the side like most things in his life.

He couldn't have run that far…he knew he couldn't have. It was near impossible when not several moments after he'd bolted was he snatched back into the arms of his onetime rival, his now one and only Alpha, and a saiyan that struggled to keep him settled when he clearly didn't want to be.

So Vegeta did what he knew best.

Goku went with the blow to his face. He'd taken harder hits from stronger people, but being hit in the face by anyone tended to make someone mad. Goku snarled and Vegeta fully expected him to hit him back.

Goku didn't deliver once again.

Vegeta did the second thing he knew best. He howled in anger and shoved himself out of Goku's embrace, hauling off and punching the closet thing that would break.

The tree didn't have much of a chance of standing after its middle was torn down. It moaned and toppled backwards, groaning with the weight of its massive body falling backward and hitting the earth unable to defend itself. Fauna and birds flew where they could to get out of the way, more than aware that things like this tended to happen on a day to day basis. Dust and leaves settled, the wind still for once that day, and the sun kept shining like nothing was wrong.

Vegeta aimed his fist at something else and found it in Goku's open palm. Deft fingers wrapped themselves around his trembling fist, holding him rather than resisting and shoving backwards to start a fight that wanted to spark itself into awareness. Vegeta let out another noise, rage induced and sure to scare someone somewhere into pissing their pants. Goku stood in front of it, taking that noise and the punch that came with it to yank Vegeta forward and snatch him close.

He held him captive in those immobile arms, and Vegeta did his best to be free of them.

"Kakorrot, let me go!"

"NO."

"Kakorrot! I said—"

"I'm not letting you go, dammit!"

Vegeta struggled again, but there was sheer panic bubbling up from him now as he clawed at those arms. His voice took another role, a pleading one, one that he did not wish upon anyone screaming inside more than they ever wanted their brains to relay as truth when it was all they knew in life. "Kakorrot please!" he cried, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling for all he was worth, "Please, let me go!"

"NO."

"Damn it, stop it! STOP! JUST STOP!" he screamed. "STOP—"

"Stop what?! Stop letting you run away?! Stop letting you ignore what is blatantly in front of you because you can't see outside of what is this lie you've been living?! Oh yes, Vegeta, I will stop **that**, but I am NOT letting you go."

"YOU DON'T WANT ME!" He screamed it as loud as he could, desperate and willing this idiot holding him to believe what he said as much as he wanted it to be true. He couldn't want him. No one wanted him. He wasn't meant to be wanted and that was the way things were! It was fine before. He was FINE BEFORE.

"If you were so fine…then why are you crying like this?"

Vegeta hadn't even realized he said it aloud. The question was soft, gentling and a shattering force that knocked his knees from under him and had Vegeta sinking right down with his fingers pressed into Goku's arms. He heaved and tried to breathe, but the proper breaths would not come without shuddering soul quaking sobs that robbed him of what little dignity he could have mustered in order to pry himself away from Goku with enough effort. He grit his teeth against the disgusting noises that were coming from him, the tears falling into his mouth relentlessly with the world tightening and screaming until he just couldn't take another moment of it.

He shoved his hands against his ears. Tugged…felt the wetness of something more than his face and then Goku's hands tugging his own down and away, keeping them pinned with his own between them. He couldn't stop shaking with the effort to stop it all as it spiraled out of control; the voices telling him again what he knew, what he felt, and what he wasn't ready to stop believing was the ultimate truth. Goku couldn't want him…he didn't know what he wanted because no one wanted a fucked up menace that would rather die than burden any child with the knowledge that they came from such a place of utter disgrace.

He said so.

Screamed it.

Yelled it.

Goku listened and still **didn't** let him go.

"You fucking idiot!" Vegeta was beyond his normal tendencies now, forgoing the usual sharp blade of a tongue that had been his weapon of choice since he could remember. "I am a fucking OMEGA…and I'm not…not even that," he cried brokenly. He just couldn't understand. Goku kept staring at him, listening, not moving, not offering words to counter his own. He just sat there holding his hands, keeping them down as Vegeta felt the bottom of his known world upend itself in his stomach. He swallowed the bile in his throat back down, but the sobs just would **not** **_stop_**. "I can't…I can't even…"

Vegeta was falling. He was falling forward and being crushed to death by those arms. He hoped they would kill him kindly, but he wasn't quite that lucky. He thought that would be the end of it; that it would be a final gesture and he'd be set free, but that stupid overbearing lumbering simpleton of a saiyan just had to say the one thing that Vegeta never in his life wanted to hear from anyone.

"If I didn't want you…you wouldn't be alive."

Like that was supposed to be some life turning point in his existence?! Vegeta pulled back enough to look at him, to tell him by no means was saying something like that going to make things okay, but the words stuck in his throat when he felt the first tear his face when Goku shoved up and into his space, breathing him in and just willing him to sit, listen, and not TALK. Vegeta couldn't form words right then anyhow. He was too busy trying to comprehend why anyone would waste tears over him.

"Kakorrot…"

"Not one **piece** of that **shit** out of your mouth is **true**," Goku breathed harshly. "Not one fucking iota. You aren't some worthless omega, and you're certainly NOT my **bitch**. I don't want an _omega_. I want YOU. I want someone who understands me from the inside out and will let me be ME, and you…you're those things Vegeta…you're just to fucking **stupid** to see it."

"The fuck—stupid?!"

"Yes, fucking stupid, and if that's what you're taking out of this you're just an idiot, and I KNOW you're not some random idiot," he murmured shoving their heads together. Vegeta growled at him, and he got a growl back that was a little worse than his own. It said so much and so little, but the rage urge to blow something up lessened itself a little bit. "You've got so much untapped potential Vegeta, you could be so fucking _much_…and I **_hate_** that this innate fear of what you are is holding you back like this."

It was innate, yes, but it was a genuine fear that could have landed him in hot water, or gotten him killed. He didn't have to say it for Goku to know, but the unsaid words lingered in their mingled gazes. This wasn't some fight they could just wander into and defeat like normal. The prince was not strong enough to just take this thing on and do what he claimed he could always do without help. Goku couldn't just come out of the woodworks and beat this sickness into submission. It was driving him bat shit crazy, and Vegeta didn't know how to respond to him and his concerns.

Really, no one had ever really given much of a damn about him or his feelings…

"Vegeta…I do **want** **_you_**."

…Until now apparently…or before. Vegeta wasn't sure and he wasn't looking to pinpoint when his life had turned itself inside out, upside-down and another flavor. His head hurt too much for all that. He put his head down, nose buried against the slight sweat slicked skin of the Alpha against him, inhaling the scent of the woods and the air and the familiar musk of Goku wrapping itself around his addled brain and body to comfort him. The arms around him tightened and brought him close. He may or may not have buried himself deeper into those arms and just sagged for as long as he was allowed to.

He was tired.

"Please…Fix me…."

Tired enough to let that slip and let it stand as it came. The soft, "I'm trying to," was enough make him believe that maybe…maybe life wasn't quite as shitty as it seemed at times.

His son, however, was in such major shit.

* * *

What? What's that? What am I doing?!

I don't knoooow. It's kinda flowing on its own right now.

and yeah...Trunks is in some trouble. A lot. MAJOR. (might kill him? Mmmmm no. Maim him? Yeeaah.)


	11. The Nature of Things

**AN:**

I only have one question.

Do you guys even like this for real? Really?

And the next *counts fingers* three chapters are pretty much drama.

* * *

**Chapter 11:** The Nature of things

They didn't come back until darkness fell. It was mostly owed to Vegeta falling asleep somewhere along the line and sleeping so deeply for once that he hadn't dreamt of anything. Sleep like that was precious; a luxury that made it impossible to wake up when someone urged him to do so before he was ready. However, Goku hadn't tried to wake him. He sat there with him in his arms watching Vegeta as he slept through the passing day with tear streaks drying on his peaceful face. He would nuzzle his hair from time to time, laughing quietly to himself when he remembered Chi-chi's earlier desires to do something with it as he inhaled their mingled scents with the sounds and smells around them. It kept him calm. It helped him to focus. He was perfectly content to sit here like a child and their broken beat up doll. Had someone seen them, they might have asked if they were all right. Surely he would have given the dried blood on his mate's face and his own from pressing it against that wound.

They were not all right. Far from it.

He found his arms tightening from time to time as the sun sank into the horizon and stole its light back from the land. The darkness grew, illuminated by the faint light of a waning moon. It was a reminder of what lie ahead of them. Goku wasn't a stupid person. He knew from the beginning that pursuing this was going to cause a ruckus within his family like no other. He had prepared himself for a lot of resistance from all sides, but he couldn't have foreseen just how damaged his intended had been. Yes, he was highly aware of certain things that had happened within the smaller saiyan's life, things that would warp a person in ways that were just beyond repair, but he hadn't known that his very own nature would scare him so badly that he was willing to hurt himself to stop himself from thinking. He had scars everywhere. Some were from the battles that were beyond his knowledge and others were from battles from upon this planet….but the faint ones, the ones that no one could truly see without being this close…lightened marks on his wrists…he wondered when they had appeared within Vegeta's young life.

They had a long road ahead of them. It was not going to be easy for either one of them, but Goku wasn't the type of person that readily gave up when something was too hard. It was the one piece of himself that was blatantly obvious to all who knew him, even with the mask of simplicity plastered upon his face. He could not hide that part of himself any more than Vegeta could hide his blatant fear of being a "mistake", which was something they were going to have to talk about further when Vegeta was a little more stable. For now, there were other things to take of; other things that needed to be dealt with. People rather.

He decidedly tried not to hate himself for what was necessary. He wasn't going to lie about the outcome.

Vegeta wasn't going to like him.

When the sun had completely vanished from his sight, Vegeta woke and Goku gathered him into his arms to take him back home.

When they were back on the property and within sight of the house, they could smell the remnants of dinner. Goku could hear the others moving about within the large space, obviously trying to occupy themselves with other things aside worry for where they were. He couldn't see anyone outside as he marched into the clearing, at least not anyone who readily wanted to be seen by him. He noticed the soft hitch of someone's startled breath; the silent shuffling to rearrange themselves louder than the sound of his own feet walking against the threshold. He could see where the movement was, the purple head giving away who it was.

Trunks was a folded up version of what he usually was. His head was down, pressed into his arms residing against his drawn up knees, hunched into a ball of tension that would not look in Goku's direction. His arms were decorated in bruises. Goku could smell the drying blood on him. He couldn't see the where the wounds were, but he knew there was a fresh on one his shoulder. The torn bloodied shirt was a sign that something had occurred in his absence, something that shifted the rankings in a way that made it intolerable for the young man sitting there to be inside with the others.

The humane side of him wanted Trunks to get up and march him into the house.

The Alpha within him wanted Trunks punished properly.

Goku ignored both sides.

He walked past Trunks as if he didn't exist.

They made their way inside the house with Goku immediately placing Vegeta in their quarters. The smaller Saiyan was drifting again, his exhaustion too much to contend with. No sooner had he hit the sheets was he asleep again, absently curling into the spot where Goku usually slept as he buried himself under the blankets. Once the Alpha was sure that his mate was asleep, he shut the door and headed downstairs to take care of a couple of things.

Like figuring out who bit Trunks.

* * *

"I didn't bite him."

Goku hadn't quite gotten the question out of his mouth when Yamcha said that aloud. The statement was so sudden that it could have easily been an admission of guilt and regret for not having some type of truth to oppose that answer, but he knew Yamcha well enough to know that he had been expecting the question the moment he walked into the living room. Goku absently scratched the side of his furred arm. These days slipping into his level four form was like breathing, and it happened on the way down to settle this nonsense between the members of his family. His appearance didn't startle anyone outside of Pan and Bra, and maybe Goten a little. They didn't see him quite that often in order to know that this was a daily thing now. His younger son slid off of the edge of the couch and into one of the cushioned seats beside his older brother.

It was the first thing that Goku noticed was different. Goten was near Gohan and Yamcha was still reasonably close, not looking like he was going to bite someone's head off. He still had a possessive arm around Gohan's shoulders, but he wasn't tense and agitated like usual when someone was close to his mate in his current condition. It could have been taken as a moment of progress between betas, but Goku knew better than that.

Something had shifted.

He knew it had something to do with why Trunks was outside.

He stepped forward a little. Yamcha straightened himself up. "You didn't bite him?" Yamcha shook his head again, but he wasn't quite telling the truth. Something had happened, but it wasn't what Goku had assumed it to be. He thought about it a moment longer, and when he couldn't quite sense what that something was, he blinked when the answer came in the way Yamcha idly looked at his hands.

Oh, Yamcha didn't bite him. Not in the traditional sense. "You forced him to submit."

Now Yamcha nodded. Goku resisted groaning, though his amusement was seen in the glimmer of his eyes when he snorted absently. "Well this is just dandy." This changed a couple of things, but it wasn't anything that was so out of his range that he couldn't roll with the punches. Still, that shouldn't have sent Trunks fleeing to the outside like the outcast of a dysfunctional family. He hesitated, turning to Chi-chi standing behind the couch the girls were seated on. She didn't give anything way. She usually never did.

"You?"

"I was acting in Vegeta's absence," she stated. "Besides, I don't put up with that shit from my own. He's no different," meaning that Trunks had been banished from the house until further notice. Huh. "He can find his own food and sleep outside until he starts using that head of his."

"He could always go back to his place," Pan muttered. "I mean, he does have some choice unlike the rest of us…"

"Actually, he doesn't," Goku corrected. His granddaughter immediately sat up, not expecting him to really answer her little statement that was not meant to be taken into the conversation. She was in for a rude awakening. Goku never let anything go around his house unanswered. "If he leaves, he severs ties with his family. He wouldn't be allowed here or anywhere we go."

"But…that's not fair! He didn't do anything—"

"He was **disrespectful**." He might have growled the last part and Pan may have leapt in her seat a little. He didn't care. She needed to understand. They all needed to understand, some more than others. "**Disrespect** is not tolerated in my house. The reason you're all here is to learn how to work with one another and learn the ingrained chain of command that has been ignored for way too long. If you want to call yourself saiyans, you're going to start acting like one…and that means you will **respect** those of a higher rank in this group."

Bra, who had been wholeheartedly silent most of the time she was here, shoved her hand against Pan's protesting mouth with a loud, "SHUT IT." She'd heard the reasoning one too many times for her not to know what Pan was going to say. The whole issue with the beta rankings and the power...she understood the confusion, really she did. What she understood outside of that was what Yamcha demonstrated the moment he forced her to submit without biting him once. "If you can't control yourself, what right do you have to entitle yourself better than someone else who has that control?"

Pan snatched her mouth from Bra's hand. "What is with you?!" she cried. "You of all people should be upset about this! Your father is mated to my grandpa!"

"So?"

"What do you mean so?!"

"Pan, it doesn't take a genius to know when things fit and when they don't." Pan kept gaping, and Bra rolled her eyes skyward. "Mom and Dad…they were one another's crutch against something they weren't going to ever outwardly admit to. All Goku did was put the puzzle pieces in a different place….and while that may seem wrong to you," she said pointing in the direction Pan's eyes were shifting toward, "It's really not your business outside of what is told to you."

Pan dropped her eyes from her father and Yamcha. Bra sighed and stood up, walking over to where Goku stood looking at the girl in admiration. Not many would dare to approach him in his form. He could hear her heart thundering against her ribcage, but her face was the collection of calm and collected. She had a lot of potential…a lot more than he'd given her credit for. He was beginning to see that the girly exterior she portrayed was possibly the same as is own simple front, which was more than likely the reason why he allowed her smaller fingers to tug at the fur on his arms when she snatched her close and smothered her with his scent and his pride.

"Just fix him," she whispered when she pulled away. "And can you just…talk to her?" Bulma. She really wasn't too much of a thought, but Bra seemed really worried about her mother. "She gets it…I think…but…"

"I'll talk to her." It was the least he could do.

She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks. I'm sorry about…my brother."

He hugged her again, this time comforting her guilt. "Don't apologize for his mistakes." It took a few seconds for her to nod against him, and when she pulled away this time he wiped her face with his hands. She was probably scared out of her mind, or just that distraught that things had come to this. None of it was her fault and she need not ever think it. He told her this, and she gave him a shaky nod that turned into laughter when he said, "I'm probably going to kill the man that tries to woo you." He'd never had a daughter. He could see why Vegeta was so protective of her. Seeing her cry…it was just **wrong**.

Once the tears were dry and Goku had sat himself down, he figured it was time to lay down how things were going to go. He was sure that Trunks could hear him. He might have been outside, but that didn't mean he couldn't use the saiyan side of him to clearly hear and understand what was going on inside. He needed to hear it anyhow.

He wasn't going to like it.

"It is without question that I am the Alpha," he said, "And what I ultimately decide goes. Vegeta is my mate, and has the same standings as me, within **_reason_**." He really wasn't going to give Vegeta that amount of power until he was a lot better inside of his head and could think rationally. Vegeta probably understood that and why it was so hard for him to just accept it. Despite what anyone thought, Vegeta didn't want that type of responsibility. "Not given his current situation, if we're not around, Control falls to Yamcha and Gohan."

"Why not Uncle Goten?" Pan asked. "He's your son after all…"

"Yamcha's been around longer."

"And his hits aren't for show," Goten grimaced. "I know you don't believe it, but you saw Trunks. Besides, I fought him and lost before…and I'm perfectly happy being a third. I am third, right?"

Goku grinned at his son. "You're correct."

"Awesome."

"That leaves a fourth position to be filled…and I think I'm going to hand that over to Bra."

Bra, clearly not expecting that, winced at the outraged "WHAT?!" coming from Pan. Her friend since she could remember stared at her grandfather with all the abhorrence she could muster over her indignation. "There is no way she can be forth!" she cried. "She doesn't even fight!"

"Well, it would have been Trunks…and it could have been you, but you two…need **work**," Goku said. "Particularly with that whole questioning your elders thing and talking back."

"Oh Kami, GRANDPA, We're not TEN anymore!"

"No…but you sure don't act like it."

"But—"

"Pan. **SHUT**. **UP**."

The teen felt her mouth closing. Her grandfather had never once told her to shut up. Not like this, not in this form, and most certainly not in front of her father and her mother quietly standing aside Chi-chi. Videl didn't once intervene. Pan looked at her mother in askance, but she was shocked to see the disappointment radiating off of her face when their eyes met.

Goku wasn't playing around. It was time for this to stop and he aimed to do it the best way he knew. If it meant shocking his granddaughter into submission, he wasn't above embarrassing her. She certainly was; sinking into her seat and lowering her gaze to her folded hands. She pointedly ignored the heat in her cheeks and did not look up again when Goku continued on.

"Bra, do you have any objection to being my fourth?"

The girl didn't even hesitate. "No sir."

"Good. I'll start training you myself later on this week."

She couldn't help the look she gave Pan. The girl looked desolate, sitting there at a loss about what was going on. "….what about Pan and Trunks though? And Videl and Chi-chi?" she asked. "Don't they have positions?"

"We know our positions honey," Chi-chi assured. "I'm going to teach Vegeta about being the group "**_mom_**" so to speak, and Videl and I will help him around the house and in running errands and stuff. We're the domestic part of the pack."

"And as for Trunks and Pan," Goku said, "Consider them grunts until they move up the ranks and prove themselves. And I don't mean power wise," he clarified. "Power is meaningless if you lack the maturity to control it and yourself. But technically, Pan answers to everyone. Trunks…well, he's Yamcha's problem now."

If they heard the loud thud of someone's head hitting the side of the house, no one acknowledged it or the whimper than came from Pan a second later. What was done was done, and there was no undoing it without some major consequence. There was still more to be told, more that Goku didn't quite didn't need to tell them. That was all on Gohan and Yamcha, who preened himself of invisible lint to distract himself from his visible pride. Since this wasn't his announcement, Goku removed himself from the group and headed not upstairs but outside to take care of another problem.

* * *

Waking up to the light of the sun after a night of drinking was **never** a pleasant feeling. It was even less pleasant when the reason behind feeling like a literal ball of shit was not because of the copious amounts of alcohol working its way out of his system. He'd been blissfully unaware of the world and its passing by, content to stay under the veil of sleep and not exist, but that quickly came to an abrupt screeching halt when the blinds were drawn back and the sun came marching in with bells and whistles and whatever the fuck sunshine was on a day like this. His eyes hurt like someone had rubbed a bucket of sand in them and his tongue was sandpaper stuck to the roof of his cotton mouth and numb. Words just wouldn't form, which was the only reason he cracked open an eye and glared at the offending daylight smirking through that window.

Goku was standing next to it, his guilty hands on the controls for the blinds. He wasn't feeling guilty about it though. He looked as aware as the sun, but he wasn't dressed. He was still in a pair of loose fitting night pants that rode low on his hips and showed off the tapered V of his hips. Vegeta immediately hated himself for being aware enough to take in that image and know that the Alpha was grinning at the conclusions drawing themselves in his head. "Good Morning."

There was nothing "good" about this morning. Not when the pieces of yesterday were trying to form and he wanted nothing to do with it, the sun, the good, or anything remotely cheerful. Yes, it was morning. That didn't change a damn thing. He dragged a pillow from nearby and put it over his head hoping to smother himself.

He was yanked out of his little trip back down under when the pillow was yanked from his face. He was being hauled up and into arms that could bench an offensive amount on an off day, seated bridal style and cradled like the invalid he wanted to play. "Oh no you don't. You've slept enough." He would disagree, but seeing that talking was effort, he glared at Goku with bloodshot eyes that should have scared him into dropping him back on the bed and taking off for the hill screaming in horror.

He got a kiss on his head and was horrified at the muttered "cute" that came from his Alpha.

"I am not **cute**," he rasped indignantly. "Far from it you—"

"You so are…and you have a shitload of stuff to do today," Goku interrupted. "It's seven—"

"What?! no—"

"—And breakfast needs to be up and prepared by eight thirty. The girls are waiting for you in the kitchen—"

"Huh?!"

"—and Gohan has been banished there as well. Make him do some work that will keep him settled yeah?"

Vegeta couldn't really process all of this right then and there, but the gist of it threw him into the depths of the kitchen at an ungodly hour with the women and a pregnant male and possibly a hovering clingy mate that belonged to the pregnant male and sweet saccharine sugar coated love that he just could not stomach this morning. He wanted to ask a rather dumb question about the whereabouts of the others, but he was dumped into the bathroom where he was aimed in the direction of the waiting shower.

"By the way…" Vegeta turned himself back around and felt his spine doing that thing it did when Goku was about to tell him something he may or may not like. "Everyone knows about Gohan, the group knows their collective places…and I may have made Bra my fourth."

The disconnected pieces of his brain snapped together and were firing off too many signals for him to articulate. The main word that tumbled out of his mouth was most likely the dumbest thing he could have said, but the "WHY?!" came out before the "What in the hell are you talking about?!" and the "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Goku's answer, like most things he tended to do, was simple. "I like her." And that was the end of that.

Vegeta was left gaping at the closing bathroom door. What the hell had he missed last night?!

* * *

Her legs came down a lot faster the next time around. He was ready for them, the padding on his arms keeping him from the sure bruised that those hits would have left had they had heat to them. As it was, she was simply getting warmed up, willingly letting herself be shoved back into her original spot to brace herself on her feet again. Strands of blue hair were beginning to stick to her forehead with the hour long warm up session finally catching up to her. Bra had started at the predawn hour, risen by her own volition and a sudden urge to be outside and away from her current roommate. The rooms had been divided up last night once the initial meeting was over, and like she expected, she was paired with Pan to share a room for the time being. Getting ready for bed last night wasn't the usual chattering between girls who were best friends. Bra had been the victim of Pan's silent fuming and brooding, subjected to total silence and the light being shut off before she was ready. She hadn't been able to sleep much with the tension radiating itself in the air, and what little sleep she did get was wasted on worrisome dreams about family fighting amongst one another.

She hadn't stepped outside of her room a moment when she spied her current trainer on his way outside to practice morning Katas. He'd stopped long enough to tell her good morning, and she'd asked to join him. He didn't hesitate to welcome her along if she wished.

She was dressed and leaving her room in five minutes, ignoring the way her roommate tucked herself back under her sheets grumbling to herself in her feigned sleep.

Yamcha kept his padded arms up, crouched low and beckoning her to come at him again. She shoved her hand out this time, slapping the padding with loud blows that echoed off of the trees and became familiar muted thuds that tended to shake a little more than the leaves outside. He smiled at her, approval in his gaze. They could have been confused for father and daughter, but her father was inside being roused by the head saiyan in charge. It only made her think about her brother and yesterday, and the next she delivered was to the rock aside her, shattering it into dust.

Yamcha whistled under his breath. "You are definitely your father's daughter."

The words made her feel lighter somehow. "Thanks." She went back to kicking and punching at his arms, decidedly not focusing on the lingering gaze she felt emanating from the window of the kitchen.

Pan turned her gaze away from Yamcha and Bra outside, staring into the soapy waters. She released the plate in hand before she wound up breaking it like two others sitting in the trash. The world shook again, and Videl was moving to catch something before it fell.

She placed that mug into the sink with the rest of the dishes. "You're not washing."

Pan realized this, but wasn't in the mood to start up again. "Why am I stuck washing dishes?" she asked for probably the third time. "And why is she outside and not in here?" she muttered to herself.

It wasn't low enough to keep from being heard. "Because she doesn't have to be," Chi-chi said. "You actually don't have to be here either."

"Really?!"

"Yes. But if you're not going to be here, you're not going to eat. You'll be just like Trunks and forced to hunt for your breakfast this morning and every morning after until you're welcomed back into the fold." She looked up from her cutting, the knife gleaming in the morning light as she lopped off the ends of several turnips and sent them sailing into the nearby trash. How she did that she would never reveal, nor would she relent on the truth in her words after a rather vicious chop shook the table. "So, go ahead and do as you please," she said. "Just know food will not be available to you, or a bed, if you don't do something useful besides what you think you're supposed to do."

Pan felt her mouth go dry. She looked at her mother humming to herself in content. Videl kept at her task of stripping the outsides of the potatoes and handing them to Gohan who quickly cut them and tossed them into another bin. If she didn't know better, she might have let herself believe that they were still the picture perfect couple from their youthful days. Unfortunately that little belief was tossed out of the far window when her father slipped out of his chair and moved to transport some of the already cut up potatoes near a counter close to the waiting stove. The evidence of reality being a strange son of a bitch was sitting on his abs clear as day with the shirt he wore this morning. It seemed like that little unnoticeable piece of fat she thought he was gaining from laziness was a little life after all that had grown overnight and taken over the sanity of everyone here.

She still couldn't quite believe it. She really didn't **want** to.

Before she could properly bliss herself out of this place with death by doing dishes, another body walked into the room looking a little lost, tired, and more reserved than she'd ever seen him. Vegeta looked more than uncomfortable, a look that was becoming familiar in a not so good manner. She knew something had happened outside, something that involved why Trunks was nowhere to be seen at the moment and why Vegeta was avoiding everyone's lingering gazes. Pan thought that in this case it was best not to ask, though she was a little prone to gaping mouth syndrome when her grandmother crossed the kitchen and just about crushed him to death in her arms.

She said something to him that was too low for her to hear, but it was enough to get a startled laugh out of Vegeta and a tired wipe of his face. A loud "I heard that!" came from the hallway, but Goku didn't appear. Chi-chi yelled back that he was meant to hear it, and caused another ruckus of laughter from her, Vegeta, and Goku making his way outside.

"So, are you ready to take over?" Chi-chi asked.

The loud emphatic "NO" was expected, but he silently sighed and followed it with, "But when am I ready for anything, really?"

"You're ready for a lot more than you think," Videl said. "Otherwise Goku wouldn't have shoved you in here with us this morning."

"Yes well….where is everyone anyhow?" he asked looking about. "I didn't think Yamcha would separate himself from his mate for more than two minutes."

Gohan rolled his eyes skyward, but he smiled. "It's been a record breaking hour," he chuckled. "He's outside helping Bra train. Goten is somewhere around here meditating and my father went outside to probably take over for Yamcha…"

"Take over? Why?"

Chi-chi handed him a ladle and motioned over to the waiting pots and ingredients. "You missed a lot last night," she said as he walked over. Vegeta was beginning to see that with the sudden shift in dynamics around here. He was already mentally going over what was in front of him and could surmise that they were going to have a traditional breakfast this morning. He reached to grab an apron from Gohan and tied it skillfully around his waist. Chi-chi kept talking as she helped him gather the beginnings of what he needed. "But after the incident, Yamcha had it out with Trunks. He forced him to submit."

Vegeta nearly dropped the ladle. Nearly. "Did he—"

"No. He didn't bite him."

"So then…oh, shit."

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta lifted a hand to his mouth. The others thought he was in shock, until the gentle shaking of his shoulders gave away his true position on things. His soft laughter was something new; something rarely heard that had Pan dropping the plate in her hand back into the sink with a thud. She didn't find what was so funny.

"So you threw him out?" he asked rather than elaborate on his laughter. Chi-chi nodded. "That explains a lot. How long?"

"As long as it takes. Do you need something for that?"

Vegeta copied her motions and pressed the top of his head. He'd nearly forgotten about that and the bandage he'd noticed in the mirror when he'd washed his face. He said no, but she wasn't talking about that. She'd only been shoving a bit of hair out of her face. Chi-chi moved her hand to the opposite side of her, tapping it twice. He slapped his hand over the mark, blushing hotly as he belatedly realized that it wasn't the noticeable claiming mark. He absently traced he edges of it, shaking his head no at her question and ridding himself of the moments before he'd come into the kitchen. She seemed to catch on and laughed, rubbing his back in passing as she headed off to grab more of what they needed.

Pan turned her gaze back to the soapy water and the four broken plates at the bottom.

Maybe it was best to just blame it all on soap getting in her eyes.

* * *

I know what you're going to ask. What happened to Trunks?!

Meh, asking for reviews to find out would be cruel. So...you'll find out next chapter, eh?

Seriously though. Is this thing likable? I'm just spitting out whatever comes to mind now...for the story...not here. Kind of.

...I'm going to play temple run now.


	12. Alpha to Beta

AN:

Okay, before we get on with it...I just want to make one thing clear.

I will never...ever...EVER...make Goku a bonafide jerk without a hidden motive.

I probably should have mentioned that this is OOC for a good bit of the characters, including the smart cookies of the bunch, but again, we're headed in a new direction with the brand of story I tell.

That being said, I'm posting not one but the next three chapters, as I will not be working on this in the coming weeks. I'm working on other projects and updating my portfolio, so...yeah. :) There is going to be a good deal of drama, but I want you to really put yourselves in those shoes of change before anyone goes off the deep end. How did it get to this point? Why are they upset? Do they deserve to be upset? And lastly, can you say you wouldn't react the same way in some cases?

Basically I'm touching on shifting family dynamics and how people react. Sometimes the ones you know best act the worst. I mean no offence to the actual personalities of the characters, but someone has to take the fall.

And I haven't even announced this shift to the outside members of the family except Bulma, who we WILL be dealing with on a later date.

So, this chapter is in regards to Trunks, and again...hidden motives.

* * *

**Chapter 12:** Alpha to Beta (Step-father to step-son)

Summer was getting closer by the day. It was on the verge of getting hotter in the coming weeks, the pinnacle of which would be spent indoors and away from the possible sunburn. The morning had been a little warmer than yesterday, and the afternoon a sure sign of coming beach weather. Someone's phone had said that it would climb into the mid-eighties today. It was reason enough for someone, namely Vegeta at Goku's request, to break out the lemonade and some choice goodies as everyone headed outside to watch the training festivities that were about to commence.

Vegeta hadn't protested the request of putting together a food tray. He found that when his hands were busy, he wasn't allowed to think about yesterday or every day before that. He was too focused on putting enough together so that everyone got something and making sure the lemonade wasn't too tart for people to drink. Chi-chi had offered to help him. It still blew his mind a little that Goku's former wife was so willing to help the one who was supposed to be his proper mate. He didn't reject her offer. While it was weird, stranger still was the feeling of camaraderie when they fell into a routine that shouldn't have existed. They seemed to feed off of one another, expecting one another's movements and effortlessly avoiding the other amongst handing things off and putting things together in a similar fashion. Chi-chi was a little neater than Vegeta, but Vegeta found he was a little more particular with things.

It led to him wondering just how Goku found out about his cooking skills. He asked Chi-chi.

The woman laughed and said, "He can sniff out a good cook," and Vegeta had actually believed it.

Chi-chi placed down the two jugs of lemonade—one with strawberries in it—and Vegeta placed down the food tray. No sooner had they done so were Goten, Bra, and Yamcha raiding the goodies with relished noises. Chi-chi handed a plate of food to Gohan. He was banned to sit like usual. Not that he minded. The air of precaution was still high and would probably stay until their little one decided to pop in.

Vegeta had learned that their first appointment with a local doctor was in the next three days over breakfast. Gohan was rather nervous about it and Yamcha's anxiety did show in his attentiveness to his mate. It was normal, Vegeta supposed, but their anxiety was a little catching. He caught himself twice rubbing his stomach, mimicking Gohan's movements without realizing it until it was too late. The second time he'd done it, Goku had seen it. The Alpha hadn't remarked on it. He stuffed his face with another load of food, swallowed, and kissed the side of his head.

Outside they were a little more relaxed. Gohan was reclining in his chair and Yamcha was guzzling down his lemonade and wiping himself free of sweat. Sparring had continued right after breakfast and escalated to include more than Yamcha and Bra. He grinned when he was slapped in the face with a spare towel, casually tossing a cube of ice at Goten moving to get his own drink. Vegeta thought he'd sit down aside Gohan, but he headed over to where Vegeta was seated and plopped down aside him on the grass. Bra was steps behind him, taking the other side for herself and leaning against Vegeta's shoulder as she wiped off her face.

"Are you all right?"

She stopped rubbing her face and stared at him. "Are you?"

"…for the moment," he admitted reluctantly. Talking to his daughter had always been easier for him than talking to his son or his wife. He really hadn't bothered to ever figure out why. It was the one of the few things he accepted without question and was grateful for when she mirrored a snort like his own. Yeah, it was a bit of a lie. He was a little more than all right but he wasn't ready to admit that aloud. Normal times never lasted too long, and he didn't need a disturbance to top the major ones in the past week.

Being broken apart sucked.

"I think Pan is mad at me," she said quietly. Vegeta really didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't surprising, considering where everyone stood physically. Pan wasn't within earshot of them. In fact, she wasn't in their sights at all. She was still in the house cleaning, arm deep in laundry that should have been done a little over a week ago. She might have been cursing up a storm if left on her own, but her mother was with her to keep her from it and to make sure she didn't damage the laundry like she did the dishes. Pan hadn't spoken to anyone really, but she avoided Bra moreover than anyone else she came in contact with today.

It wasn't normal for the girls to not talk. Vegeta was used to their aimless chatter when they were around one another, especially if Marron was with them. The only time they didn't talk was when they were sleeping, and even then they tended to fall asleep with their phones in hand. If it wasn't normal for Vegeta, he knew that his daughter was silently freaking out about it. She was a lot like him in that respect. If she didn't know how to handle it, she wasn't going to let others interfere unless they absolutely had to.

He lifted an understanding hand to her head. "Sometimes you have to let people be mad at you," he said softly. "Sometimes they have to figure it out on their own. It's nothing you did. Kakorrot asked you to be his forth for a reason."

"Why?"

"….because apparently he likes you," and Vegeta wasn't going to pay attention to the ridiculously pleased feeling he had in his chest at that thought. Her smile was telling. She hugged him and he went with it, laughing softly when she sniffed herself and gagged openly at her smell.

"He's not going to hurt Trunks, is he?"

"No." He was sure of that much. "Kakorrot isn't like that."

They stayed like that until Goten motioned that it was time to get back to their practice. Yamcha joined them, and they headed over to their spots with Bra in the middle of the two men. She was good with one on one combat, but needed practice with multiple combatants. While his daughter was prissy at times, she wasn't above getting her hands dirty. She was coming along nicely and Vegeta was sure if Goku was around that he'd be pleased at his choice of a forth.

Alpha he was in all respects of the word, but Goku wasn't like the ones Vegeta had come across in his travels. He wasn't going to tell anyone, especially his daughter, that in some customs it was expected that the Alpha beat his adoptive children into submission to assert his dominance. There was only one instance that he knew of where the Alpha killed his adoptive children, but the reasoning behind it had always been disputed. Vegeta knew inwardly that Goku would never bear that type of bloodlust. He'd been one with the oaf on one too many occasions to know that he couldn't quite rise to the vengeful bastard he portrayed unless he was truly incensed about something.

He thought back on that afternoon when this first started.

He rubbed his neck and sighed tiredly.

Vegeta blatantly showcasing himself for the world had pissed Goku off completely.

He felt a nudge of brightness from inside. It startled him, but the brightness abated for something more familiar. The mark on his neck warmed, and he felt the ridiculous euphoria of pleasure that came usually after he submitted to his Alpha. He hadn't once felt this connection blossom like this; not since he'd been marked and not once through his frantic heat that had him gaping at Goku's careful demeanor. He could feel his mate's pleasure, but it was aimed at him; at something he'd done to spark that reaction.

To feel it now…it meant a little something deeper than he'd dared to hope for.

He thanked the heavens that the clouds didn't have a sense of humor and opened themselves to reveal sunlight shining down upon his reverently happy form. A little bit of happiness was better than none, and he preferred to keep it to himself.

* * *

Trunks had never in his life seen a tail swing faster than air.

He supposed that in the end he might have paid proper attention rather than wondering why in the world he was currently holding his face (again) as the world spun out of control. He really didn't know when he stopped tumbling. Everything came to an abrupt stop with a hard landing on a mixture of grass dirt and dead branches without the additional pile of shit lying somewhere convenient. The skid mark of his body across the forest floor was more than noticeable to anyone who was floating above, so it was rather easy for the owner of that tail to trot back down from the skies and land about two feet from where he lie.

The world came into focus, and Trunks was beginning to hate the color red.

"Oh…you're still aware," Goku noted quite needlessly. He took another three steps forward and squatted down to get a better look at Trunks forcing himself into a sitting position. It looked like the world hadn't **quite** righted itself yet. "The first time I did that to Yamcha, he nearly bit my tail off."

Trunks scoffed and winced at the flaring pain of his nose. "Whatever."

"Ask him. He'll tell you about it."

Trunks didn't want to ask him about it. He didn't want to ask Yamcha anything. Personally he would rather see the backside of Goku's tail in his face again before he ever asked Yamcha about anything. His nose was cursing him out in several languages because that thought was a high sign of the concussion he may be developing. Well, that and him working his way back to his feet to stagger like a drunken man before the rising level four saiyan grinning at him like this was a game. His shoulder ached and his back was screaming from the abuse of sleeping on the cold ground last night…and the world was still spinning a bit…but he forced himself to focus. He put all of his attention on Goku…

"WAH!"

…and never saw his legs being kicked from underneath him. He landed hard on his shoulders and saw the culprit staring up at him. How Goku had just moved from one spot to another and now stood over him just didn't compute. Usually he was able to see things like this.

Maybe that tail had rattled more upstairs than he thought.

"Come on." The taunt was thrown out with a yawn of disinterest and a look to match it and then some. Goku's fangs gleamed in the afternoon light. "You're not even trying."

"Wasn't aware I was supposed to try," Trunks muttered. "I don't even know why we're here."

"Oh. Well, that's sad then."

"How is it sa—aagh!"

"Because it is."

Trunks felt the rest of him fall with an aimless thud. He was too busy staring at the tail sitting in the middle of a rather large crack it had made with no more than an idle swing into the earth. Trunks hadn't even seen it move. The brown furred appendage moved idly in the dirt now, much like a snake in the grass if it were stalking something. Trunks kept his eyes on it, nearly forgetting how to breathe. His nose still ached like hell and with that thing this close to his face—no, he didn't even want to imagine the pain that would be sure to follow. He was still having a hard time figuring out how something so insignificant could do that much damage, and then wondering if that thing was going to find its way back in his face because—**_yeah, no_**.

Goku was squatting again, this time at his head and leaning over enough so that their eyes lined up. Baby blue irises were stuck on the golden ones drilling holes into his skull. The urge to look away was present and singing in his bones something fierce, but there was a compelling force telling him to pay attention to the way those eyes would not move. It was like staring into the eyes of a statue; there was no story there, no sense of what was being emoted behind that frozen face and no way to tell outside of his own paranoia making shit up that would just not make things better. The slow blink that graced him was so creepy that he might have thought to piss his pants a little, but he told his bladder to man the fuck up and he forced himself not to suddenly scream like the sudden girl he felt like.

"Has it sunk in yet?"

Trunks didn't know what Goku was talking about. He never knew what he was thinking anyhow. Last night his little announcement had Trunks smacking his head against the side of the house, cursing inwardly and outwardly at the mark on his shoulder that he'd gotten in a moment of weakness. He would keep telling himself that, calling himself stupid and every other name under the sun—moon—that resembled the word "STUPID" because how in the fuck did he submit to YAMCHA of all people?! He still didn't get why that even happened, or how, but he sure as shit wasn't about to play by these rules.

He was all set to get up and just call this a bad dream—acid induced—but Goku had shown up seconds before he could get up and pinning him to his spot with his presence. Trunks thought for a brief second that he was going to more than likely tell him off or put him in his place—worst case scenario was that the Alpha would punch him in the face—but Goku didn't to any of that. He came baring a blanket and a protein bar, threw them at him, and walked off without a word. Trunks pretended that it didn't scare him more than the possibility of getting punched in the face, ate the bar and settled in for the night on the ground, not knowing why he even bothered to.

This morning was decidedly no better when the smell of breakfast woke him. He woke to his stomach growling loudly, pressed against the cool ground and dampened from the morning dew. The blanket hadn't kept him from the sudden chill that came traveling through the night. He was stiff with cold, hungry, and hating himself for getting beaten because dammit, catching his breakfast should not be something he ever had to do. He half thought about grabbing his keys and hunting something down in the city—in a bakery mainly—but that idea was shot down when he remembered his stuff was inside the house, and he wasn't allowed inside.

He was halfway in the air when he felt, NOT HEARD, Goku come around the corner. He wasn't in his level four but the presence was there as well as the silent demand for him to set himself back down on the ground. Trunks hadn't put his first foot down when Goku grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and vanished with him into the woods, where Goku (once he'd dropped Trunks onto the ground) told him to show him what he was made of. Not a problem.

_ "—Without turning into a super saiyan."_

And then there was a problem.

Trunks surmised that it was Goku's way of making him sink into Yamcha's position of being strictly human in a world full of people that could and would destroy him. He was being fitted into shoes that he couldn't relate to and should be mindful of regardless of whom his opponent or elder was. It was a lesson of sorts, a lesson to teach him something humbling and rob him of his attitude toward Yamcha or whatever.

Please.

There was nothing Goku could do or say that would make Trunks look at Yamcha any differently than he had before now. He still didn't understand how that old man landed Gohan, nor did he want to acknowledge this strange relationship between his father and Goku. Trunks also didn't want a pissed off Goku gunning for him because he wouldn't bend to his dominance, which again, was questionable at best. Someone drugged them all, they were all in one weird dream, and when he woke up he was going to find Yamcha and punch him where it hurt. Repeatedly.

He decided that he would play this out and act contrite the moment Goku thought he'd had enough and ended it before one of them got hurt…namely him. He agreed to spar with him and charged at Goku, never once thinking that it would escalate to a level that would be considered dangerous. Like he thought, he missed Goku on the first swing. The man was gone, out of his sight, and then directly behind him.

Trunks was not expecting the punch to his stomach from that level four saiyan.

It knocked the literal wind out of him.

He gasped, hunched over the arm that like steel would not move, the edges of his vision blacking out until Goku, the smirking foul tempered menace, stated that Yamcha had taken harder punches.

Trunks found that hard to believe and it pissed him off.

He didn't know how long they fought with Trunks flailing at air that should have been filled with a certain Alpha and chasing him and his image around. The sun rose up higher, the air got hotter, and he was getting hungrier by the hour. Whatever punch he landed was knocked off like a fly on a horse's ass and his kicks were twigs trying to take out a boulder. Goku was this impenetrable force of red fur and bulk that would lash out every so often and take Trunks out with little effort. The cat had its mouse, and it was playing games with batting it around the moment it thought it had a chance to do something.

The mouse eventually, after a moment to stop and think, found an opening.

The cat, clearly unsuspecting, didn't see it coming.

Goku hadn't seen him. Trunks was positive of this and sure that slamming his fist into his side was going to end this. Well, that or hunger. He was only centimeters from fist connecting to unsuspecting flesh when that damn tail flashed into his sight and delivered a blow that could rival his father's fist on a **_gentle_** note. His face still had a sting from yesterday's unexpected slap heard round the world, but never in his life did he once thing that a tail…a meaningless weakness…would make him question his sanity.

Hence the reason he was laying here now, trying not to stare at the hole that tail just made, praying that it wasn't going to slam itself into his face, and not understanding a damn thing Goku was trying to say.

"Yesterday was uncalled for."

Finally, something he understood! "…I may have taken it…too far."

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't **patronize** me."

Trunks felt his mouth open. He felt it and he couldn't stop the litany of words that came flooding out despite that tail waving dangerously too close to his face. "You are the last fucking person to talk about patronizing anyone!" he spat. "You come out of nowhere claiming to be a fucking Alpha, and then you decide to take my father as your own?!" He half expected Goku to cut him off, but Goku just kept staring at him. His defensive hackles rose upward and sprouted with his mouthy litany of whatever wanted to come pouring out. "Who the hell do you think you are!? You can't expect me to just sit here and accept all of this shit like its normal…because it's NOT, Goku, it just is the fuck NOT."

Goku leaned forward a little and flashed his fangs through that menacing grin Trunks was beginning to hate more than being caught off guard. "I guess you have a point…"

He did? Of course he did! "Then why the hell—"

"Because while it isn't normal for you, it's perfectly normal for us, and by us, I mean your father and myself." The tip of his tail brushed the underside of Trunks' chin. The young man stiffened quite a bit. "You were raised as a human. Yes, you're half saiyan, but you only pay attention to the other side when it keeps you from being barreled into the ground by someone stronger than you…Well, most of the time," he said as an afterthought. "I mean you're on the ground now."

"Don't you mean IN it?!"

"Hardly. I haven't killed you yet."

Trunks didn't miss the last bit of that sentence. He went ridged, holding his breath when Goku sat down and crossed his legs underneath him, hunched over as far as he could get and coming nose to nose with Trunks, arms folded over his chest and growling at the young half breed trying desperately not to squirm. Anyone else would have moved away as soon as possible and ran from the beast sneering at them, but they would have been inviting the beast to chase and possibly find a reason to kill them. Trunks wasn't looking to die. In fact, he wasn't looking to do anything that would put him in harm's way anymore than he was now. Goku was too close, Trunks was too stiff to do much more than lie there, and that fucking tail kept tapping the side of his face!

"So, let's have us a chat, hmm?"

"A…a chat?" Trunks stammered. "W-what are you talking about?"

"I don't understand why you people keep saying that," Goku groaned rolling his eyes. "A chat. A conversation. A discussion where you SHUT UP and LISTEN and I TALK and make several points for your pea brain to understand if it's capable of doing more than shooting your mouth off needlessly. Or would you like to say something else that will get you slapped?"

Trunks couldn't quite shake his head. His silence was enough of an answer.

Goku groaned inwardly. This reminded him a little too much of his conversation with Bulma.

"Listen," he sighed, clearly put upon by having to explain everything, "You have every right as Vegeta's son to be upset about many things, namely the whole never there when you need him thing. That I understand. However, I am inclined for the sake of my sanity and your own to tell you a few things so that one: you never do what you did again, and two: I don't rip a limb off in a fit of insanely distraught rage."

Trunks was getting good at being stiff. He could rival starch at this rate. It was also a good way to keep from looking like someone lobotomized him because seriously, when did Goku every talk like this to anyone?! Goku didn't take his non movement into account though. In fact it seemed to irritate him and amuse him. He watched as the level four snorted; his annoyed breath moving the hair out of Trunks' eyes. He kept his hands where they were perched and did that slow creepy blink that just was not doing wonders for Trunks or his back with that stiffening thing he was getting good at.

"I—"

"SHUT UP."

Right. Speaking not a good thing. Trunks forced his mouth closed.

Goku smiled. "So you are capable of listening. Good. Let's see if this sinks into your head, hmm? I'm an Alpha…an Alpha who has a **_shit load_** of patience for dumb little shits who think too much of themselves because of their power. Yes you," he said when Trunks let his eyebrows talk for him, "I am speaking about you. Part of that is your father's fault, a fact he is AWARE of, but his reasoning **isn't** yours. Regardless of his methods of parenting, he did raise you to be strong and take no shit from the best of them…but I'm pretty sure he raised you to respect the rules of proper fighting, did he not?"

"Wha—wait, we weren't engaged in a proper fight!"

"And that's where you're _horridly_ wrong. If you were fighting some enemy, that cheap shot would have been overlooked, but you weren't," he snapped. His tail swayed irritably next to Trunks' quivering cheek. "You were fighting my second, Yamcha, and you managed to not only disrespect the rules of proper sparring, but you disrespected your father, me, my son, and his mate with your callous disregard for what is proper. Even your father, the dirtiest fighter I know, KNEW what you had done, and if he hadn't come to snatch your sorry little ass, I would have and you would be in a world of hurt."

"You challenged my second," Goku said as if it were the most obvious thing here. "When you challenge anyone who is above you in rank, you're asking for a proper fight. My second is not my second because he's one of my oldest friends. You see that obviously…you have the marks to prove it."

Trunks tried not to think about the bruises he'd gotten, or that mark on his shoulder. None of them should have ever occurred. "Everyone has an off day," he muttered more to himself than to Goku.

The alpha was no longer amused. "Keep telling yourself that."

"For fuck's sake, Yamcha is NOT STRONGER THAN ME! He's not even a saiyan!"

"I believe this is where yesterday came about…and this is the part where I needlessly tell you that my son chose him for a reason and why the fuck do you care so much about it anyhow?" Trunks started to say something in kind, but the words stuck in his mouth. Nothing more than a muted halt would come from his lips, and Goku, confusing and surprising as ever, was smug about that. "Are you really that hung up about him hitting Goten a couple of months ago, or are you finally going to admit that you have a **_thing_** for my eldest?"

_He's insane!_ "I do not—"

"LIES. We're getting off topic," he muttered tiredly. "And I'm getting hungry."

"What is the point then?!"

"Your **blatant** disrespect has no place in my HOUSE is the POINT!" He was well and truly pissed now, no longer amused and no longer playing with the mouse that was Trunks lying as still as he could while that tail slammed itself into the ground on the other side of his face. That hole was deeper than the other, and the flecks of stone hitting Trunks' face in the aftermath may have cut his face. His didn't dare comment on it, or on the fear pressing its soles down into his chest to constrict his breathing.

"Vegeta has been MINE from the start," Goku snarled. "Always MINE. I had no desire to dominate him until he was ready, even if he didn't realize it. His life of living normally? A GIFT. A gift that didn't need to be given!" It wasn't customary. It was ludicrous, beyond insane and a touch shy of detrimental, but who was he to deny his mate, unknown at the time, that luxury of being FREE? But this boy couldn't know that. Vegeta meant well not to tell him, sought never to burden his child with his secrets, his dealings, but he needed to know now. He was old enough, more than capable of caring for himself and held no ties to anyone that could harm them by proxy, and he needed to understand it ALL before he did something that got him hurt unnecessarily.

It was probably a gift within itself to keep his boy from the truth. Goku saw it for what it was and dismissed the notions of protecting his child any further with this haughty madness.

He would give the kid credit though. He was handling this much better than his mother by not speaking aloud what his eyes screamed. His father was not a possession. He was his own person. He didn't have a right to take what wasn't his and his father wasn't anyone's aside himself. Goku wanted to laugh at him. He wanted to laugh long and loud and just watch this kid's face fall in shock when he told him that it was far from the truth. Vegeta was his own person, but a broken person only led a broken life.

"I've done him more harm than good by allowing him to forget his nature; allowing him to think too much of the shallow of himself and not enough of what lies beneath that skin I've let fester, but you…you could **never** understand his needs." Goku leaned further down, the heat of his breath nearly scalding upon Trunks' head. Not once did their eyes waver from one another. Trunks was too afraid to slide his eyes away at this point, and Goku demanded that attention despite the open tang of fear licking at his senses. "A Beta was never meant to understand an **Omega**. Omegas are different from Alphas and Betas, and you KNOW this."

Trunks did know. He'd seen it a time or two and it sickened him both times at the blatant disregard held for Omegas. They were only wanted for one thing, and some were luckier than others when they found someone to care for them like they should. He swallowed, prepared to ask just what Goku meant when the pieces slapped him harder than his father had the previous morning. That stricken look on his face…that disgust he held in his eyes and the betrayal…his father running off without saying anything about why or what did that and why—

His lungs collapsed on themselves and he struggled to breathe as his mind wrapped themselves around the pieces that had been dangling right in front of him without him acknowledging it. His father…his father was an omega?! He couldn't see how. He didn't understand how anyone who acted like his father could be an omega; it would just not compute! His father was strong, stronger still to have gotten as far as he had in power only bested by Goku…but never once, NOT ONCE, had he ever indicated that he was….**that**.

The weight of that truth hitting him was nothing compared to the devastating shame eating at his soul when Goku said without mercy, "That whole, 'Goku's Bitch' thing? It takes on a new meaning now does it not?"

In ways that made Trunks want to vomit up his intestines. "I…I didn't—"

"You weren't meant to know. He was protecting you in his own way…which is why you will march your ass back to the house and you will **apologize**." It was the least that could be done; the least of a long list of things that would occur. Trunks forced himself the swallow the large constricted mass that his throat had become. "You will then apologize to Yamcha, and then you will apologize to Gohan because you could have HURT him and Yamcha would have been the least of your worries."

The world was tilting again, but this time with the weight of that little tidbit of information passed onto the others while he was outside pressed to the side of the house and wondering if he should take off. He barely registered that news then. It was sitting quite heavily on his mind now amongst other things.

Gohan….was going to have a baby. Yamcha was somehow stronger than him. Goten was on their side. His father…was an Omega. And he was staring in the face of a very pissed off Alpha who by all means wanted to inflict some type of pain because blood was considered more of a payment than words of sincerity.

It dawned on him then that Goku hadn't brought him out here to humiliate him. This show of power wasn't to boast about who was the stronger of them. It was about one's place, the boundaries that had been crossed, and an ignorance he wasn't aware of until this very moment when Goku chose to enlighten him in the only way he could understand without completely freaking out about it all. He hadn't understood…and spoke about things with his temper. He'd possibly done more damage with his remarks than with his accusations…just because he hadn't sought to understand any of it.

He had a choice to make. He knew what that choice was and Goku knew what it was as well. He would learn. He would help to fix the protective mistake lain upon him because of fear. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't known, but as an adult he held himself responsible for the things he said and did, and it was damaging all on its own. So it was of no surprise when he nodded his ascent to that choice that he found himself staring at the ground with his eyes stinging and the front of his face singing in pain's chord with blood running from the wound that tail caused. It was a clear cut warning that would scar, and become a painful reminder about his place.

"There are things that you do not understand…but you will be made to understand them," Goku instructed. "One of which is that disrespect in my home is not tolerated by any means. Vegeta is your father. He may not have been father of the year in your eyes but you will not disrespect him in front of me. That is not your place, not your lot in life, and if it happens again I will not spare your backside. Understood?"

Trunks swallowed painfully and muttered, "Yes sir."

"Secondly, you will OBEY Yamcha as your elder and you will not challenge him again. You forfeited that right the moment you disrespected him in front of his mate and myself. You will earn your place in this family or you **won't** be in it."

"Yes sir."

"You will do as you're told. You will not leave this place other than to go to work, run errands, or train. Now, you're free to leave if you want at any time…just know that I will not allow you to see anyone again if you choose to abandon your **_temporary_** lot in life."

Temporary. Like a grunt in a military unit. There was a chance to go up and he would take that chance. Trunks closed his eyes and tried not to let his eyes sting any more than they did now. "Yes sir."

Goku lifted himself up a little bit. He surveyed the damage done to that face and deemed that his pride suffered a bigger blow than the bridge of his nose. "This isn't some insane get together, Trunks," Goku explained. "I'm not forcing you to move here because I can—seriously, I can if I wanted to—I'm moving you here to make you **stronger**…to make us a functioning unit and ultimately fix what is broken…and if that means enforcing discipline, I am not above it. Playtime is **over**, son. He might not deserve it in your eyes…but Vegeta needs you as much as he needs me…even if he never admits it."

Trunks gave him a weak nod. Goku took it for what it was and stood up. He walked a short distance away from Trunks, staring into the skies. "I'm not asking for sympathy for your father," he said quietly when Trunks sat up trying not to breathe harshly, "But I am asking you not to kill what little spirit he has left. Don't pity him. He needs me to survive…and I need him to keep myself in check. Alphas and Omegas are paired for a reason…but that reason isn't what it once was. I want HIM. I need him to see that he is wanted. To believe it."

"…I didn't…know…"

"And if you did know, would it have made a difference?"

Yes. But not in a way that made Trunks comfortable. In fact, the scenarios running through his skull made it hurt more and the nausea worse than ever. Trunks forced himself to his feet and did his best not to wobble. He didn't know what felt worse; his face or that heaviness in his chest that settled there without warning. He sniffed and snorted the blood from his nose. It felt better than the truth sitting on his shoulders now. He would take this pain over that any day.

He could hear what Goku wasn't saying, and it made his heart jerk a little bit when he thought about something else Goku had said.

They stood there in silence for a solid ten minutes.

On the eleventh minute, Trunks found himself tucked against Goku as he wiped the blood and tears from his face with muttered curses about how Vegeta was more than likely going to kill him for this.

Trunks highly doubted it.

* * *

Discipline is a bitch.


	13. Still Rough

**AN:**

This chapter...may be a little gut wrenching. But, I won't leave you hanging. Resolutions are coming up.

* * *

**Chapter 13:** Still Rough

"Dude…how do you do that?"

Yamcha looked up from where he was bent over a newly cut pile of firewood. He was in nothing more than his pants and a pair of old sneakers, the weather making his skin glisten with the morning sweat he'd worked up from training. It was only going to get warmer, and he wasn't one to stain up his shirts needlessly or make them filthy when they didn't have to be. He'd discarded it to the side an hour before he'd set to task of chopping wood in half with his bare hands, which was now being interrupted by Goten making his way over with Bra at his heels wanting to know the answer for herself.

Yamcha looked down at the wood again. "Do what?"

"Make such clean cuts without exerting so much energy!" Goten said. "You make it look flawless…"

He was talking about the way that wood seemed to split itself with little to no effort on Yamcha's part. He set another log on the stump and did it again; making a quick movement with his right hand and watching that log fall apart from its other half as if a sword had taken up the task. "Years of practice," Yamcha said easily. He rounded his shoulders and moved to pick up the pile. "That and I picked it up after training with your father."

"Dad taught you that?!"

Yamcha snorted at the thought. Goku would never willingly teach him something like that on purpose. "Um…no. We're going to call it a happy accident," he admitted. "Your father has a love hate relationship with it."

"Why's that?" Bra asked.

Yamcha grinned a little. They were going to find out sooner than later, so there was no harm in telling them the truth. It was funnier now than it was the first time he used it. He'd have to tell them about that story when he was sure that Goku wouldn't growl at him. "I use it to help him train his tail." He waited half a beat to turn to the sudden stumble of his new submissive trainee, snickering to himself at the complete shock Trunks was trying to cover up with his haste to pick up the tied up piles of wood he was supposed to be transferring. "I've managed to slice off his tail twice…and it takes a week for him to grow it back now. But he insists I use it and I get to deal with his bitching when I get the upper hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It just makes him stronger, and it helps keep my accuracy on point." He shifted the weight of those logs a bit and walked them over to where the rest of the wood was sitting waiting to be tied and stacked. "We've been doing it for years now."

"…so if my father grows his tail back, are you going to train his?"

Yamcha shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to Goku, really…although I really doubt he'd let anyone near Vegeta if that happens. I barely let Gohan out of my sight." He saw Trunks stumble this time, but it wasn't from anything he said. He was tired, and probably hurting, but that guy was as stubborn as another he knew about things like this. "Hey, Trunks!" he called, stalling the kid from moving another step, "Take a break will you? Go get some water or something and rest a few minutes. You're getting sloppy!"

Trunks didn't reply. He stacked the remaining tied piles in his arms neatly with the others and slumped down with his head falling between his knees. Yamcha directed Goten to get some water for the kid. Bra moved to get a cold compress from Chi-chi out of the kitchen without being told. She knew her brother better than anyone and that pinched off expression on his face was one of extreme discomfort. A lot of it had to do with that mark over the bridge of his nose, and the rest…well, it was on him really.

Two days ago, Goku had brought Trunks back from wherever they were looking like the parent that had to take a stick to their child's back for their disobedience. He was annoyed, upset, and smelt of guilt and worry, though the worry wasn't for Trunks or his bleeding face. No one rushed to assist him, as he was currently in the hold of his adoptive father and being carried towards the startled form of Vegeta taking in the sight with trepidation. Vegeta had not moved from his spot, and would not move until Goku moved Trunks to stand before his father and apologize properly.

The words tumbled out with more than the simple apology they were meant to hold. The scent of grief was sharp, but it came from both father and son. Vegeta didn't say anything in kind. He didn't have to. He got up and ushered his son into the house to tend to that wound which was his way of accepting things as they stood.

Getting into a routine was not easy after that. Once Trunks was bandaged and medicated, he was shoved in Yamcha's direction with a firm "Handle it" from Goku. Trunks had slapped his hand over the mark on his shoulder and muttered darkly. That earned him a frightening glare from his father of all people and Vegeta proceeded to dress him down in front of everyone. There was a lot of cursing involved, but the gist of it was that it was Trunks' fault for not listening in the first place and that none of this would have happened if he'd expressed his intentions when he had that opportunity.

No one quite knew what Vegeta meant, but Trunks was blushing from the tips of his ears down.

It made that mark on his face bleed again.

Trunks was shoved back over to Yamcha, and he was forced to swallow that Trunks, while biologically Vegeta's son and now Goku's son by proxy, was technically his pupil. Yamcha had never been so glad for not biting someone. Biting him would have really made things complicated. He didn't need a grown son. He already had enough trouble swallowing that he was going to be a dad this late in life.

Chi-chi allowed him back into the house, but he wasn't allowed to eat with the others for another week. She would feed him his separate meals outside and he would get nothing more until the next meal. Anything else he wanted had to be found on his own outside of the house, and if he did not work for his meals he would get nothing. Trunks agreed to the terms. He took his meals outside, did his dishes when the kitchen was cleared, and did his assigned chores without complaint. He really couldn't complain to anyone because everyone was expressly forbidden to talk to him for that same week. Well, everyone except Yamcha and Vegeta.

Vegeta gave him is chores to do. Everything else was up to Yamcha, from supervising to telling him to take a break, or directing him to do something with more efficiency. Goku had made it more than clear that Trunks was Yamcha's issue now, since he'd made the boy submit to him. Yamcha didn't really know how to deal with knowing that he was responsible for someone else now, but he did his best to make it easy on all of them, for his own sake more so than anyone else's. He was still quite irritable when Trunks was close to his mate. It wouldn't do to lose his cool because he couldn't handle something so simple when Trunks was clearly not a threat. It didn't make him feel any better about it though, so he sought Goku out to get his take on things.

Goku had summed it up with a nice, "He as an oblivious hard on for my boy", which had Vegeta coughing on whatever he'd been eating and Goku trying his damnedest not to laugh.

Yamcha, usually calm about a lot in life, had felt the need to go outside and blow something the FUCK UP.

When he got back from doing that, everyone, including Trunks, was gaping at him.

Apparently he'd unveiled a little too much of his power when he took out a cliff.

He wasn't sorry about it though, and Trunks had the good grace to keep his mouth shut from that point on whenever Yamcha addressed him. Trunks was highly embarrassed and Yamcha was more annoyed than surprised about his obliviousness, so he was banned from being around Gohan without Yamcha's presence.

Of all the people to have feelings for, why couldn't it have been Goten?

"Did you say my name?"

Yamcha shook his head at the returning Goten and sighed. "Hurry up and give him the water," he instructed, "And make sure that idiot drinks slowly. I told him NOT to wear himself down."

"Didn't he eat this morning?"

"I thought he did…his dishes came back clean."

That didn't mean he ate. Goten furrowed his brows. Yamcha was doing something similar as he pieced together whatever Goten had figured out. Yamcha wasn't ready to believe that this fool had been forgoing his meals. His plates always came back empty and he always smelt of food, but it wouldn't take much to disguise hunger. It wouldn't take much at all. A bite of food would keep people from thinking he hadn't eaten…but why in the hell would he not eat?!

A few ideas came to mind, but nothing really stuck out but one. It involved guilt and the inability to keep things down and a bunch of other messy emotions that he really didn't want to handle.

He headed for Trunks and his forlorn form, but was cut off by the appearance of Vegeta marching past him with some more water, medicine, and a look he wasn't used to seeing on that face. Trunks very nearly scrambled to his feet at the sight of his father, but his headache and lack of nutrition got the better of him and had him back on his ass faster than Vegeta could tell him to park it.

Yamcha tried to taper his annoyance down a notch. "Damn it…"

"Not your fault." Goku stepped up to stand next to him, biting into the piece of fruit he had in hand. He gave Yamcha another he held in his tail and waited for the other man to take a bite himself. "He's good at keeping things to himself."

"That kind of makes me look bad."

"Unintentionally, yes. What are you going to do about it?"

They both knew where this was going, but Yamcha was clearly not on board with the obvious answer. "If I do this, you're answering your son's questions about my whereabouts," he warned. "You know I'm not going to allow him near Gohan, especially since his oblivious hard on is not so oblivious now."

"Well, you can either do that or find him a mate."

"Do I look like a dating service?!"

"Well then, you have your answer. Besides, I think he's more offended that his best friend isn't helping him out of this little jam," Goku mused. "Conflicting problems tend to make you less likely to be reasonable with eating. He was eating…just not keeping it down."

That explained the faint stench of foulness that seemed to follow Trunks whenever he was close. The grief was apparent as was the sharp citrus smell of embarrassment, but that subtle smell covered by mint and whatever he'd been given for a meal. He really needed to pay more attention to his nose…more attention to his charge as far as his nose went anyhow. Lately he'd been too busy inhaling the scent of hearth and home wafting from his mate in volumes. It drove him nuts with barely contained excitement and it was all he could do not to jump his mate every time he saw Gohan. It was partially why he was spending more and more time outside rather than hovering over him. It just wouldn't do for Chi-chi to have a real reason to kill him because he couldn't keep his loins in check.

That smell however, was addictive and short of heavenly. He could smell now, due in part to Gohan saddling up beside him on the left and leaning into him in excitement for the coming hours ahead. Today was the day they were going to the local doctor, one who specialized in cases like theirs. While it wasn't uncommon for submissive males with that trait to become pregnant, the loss of their first child had them taking all precautions. Everything felt okay, normal, but it was better to play it safer than sorry later on down the line.

It wasn't like they could ask Vegeta about it either.

Yamcha rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "I am too old for this shit."

"You're not old," Gohan chided. "But you are going to clean up and get a move on!"

"Is this the part where I bow my head and say 'yes dear'?"

The lovesick couple giggled at their private joke. "Don't tease me with such luxuries." Gohan planted a soft kiss on Yamcha's cheek. "What were you guys talking about before?"

Goku decidedly chose to walk away at that moment, leaving Yamcha to smile timidly at his mate, the love of his life, and executioner when he said, "making Trunks my shadow for a little while?" because really, his life needed some drama in it. Gohan frowned, more than a bit perturbed. Yamcha hastily waved toward Trunks trying not to look like some beat up halfwit desperately trying not to vomit up the water he'd been given while trying to avoid looking his father in the eye. "He goes from cocky little shit to sorry emo in like the span of two days! I have to babysit him! For his own sake!"

"He doesn't need babysitting," Gohan muttered. He pushed himself into Yamcha's arms and held tight, unwilling to move an inch further than wherever Yamcha would step. His mate didn't move much other than to wrap his arms around his torso in response to his clinging. "And you need to know that I'm not going to be swayed by him."

"I don't want him sniffing at you."

"He won't."

"How can—"

"Because **you're** my mate. Not him." Gohan pulled back to kiss him on the side of his nose. "I'm carrying your kid…I don't do that for just anyone you know."

"…I find it strange that I love you more now."

"And I find it strange that you aren't moving fast enough to clean up and get ready."

He took the hint for what it was and moved to do just that. He kissed Gohan once, twice, and a third time because he was totally whipped before he managed to pull away long enough to try and make it to the house.

Yamcha wound up pulling Gohan along after him. He'd deal with all of this later.

"You smell like laundry."

Pan jolted out of her self-medicated stupor and looked backward at the one who spoke the 'oh so obvious' words. She half expected Trunks to be there, but then she remembered that he was in the middle of a grief riddled breakdown that made no sense to her whatsoever. She'd seen him ushered into the house with Goten helping him along and Vegeta right behind him with a weird look on his face. Her grandfather was nowhere to be seen. She knew her mother and Chi-chi were in the kitchen doing whatever they were doing, which only left one person to talk to her.

She pointedly did not turn her head in the direction of Bra steadily eyeing her from where she stood. "You tend to smell like anything you've been around for a while," she muttered tiredly. "You smell like outside and sweat…and Yamcha," she said with a bit of distaste. She wasn't expecting to smell that guy on Bra like that. It smelt like he'd smothered her in his scent but somehow tried to cover it up with the outside air. Pan took another inadvertent inhale of Bra, and this time got the distinct scent of Goten. Her uncle always smelt like a muted version of her father; not quite as fiery but still scented like something that could burn her nose if she inhaled it long enough. It wasn't something she usually paid attention to, at least not until recently.

Bra didn't remark on her comment, much. "Well, Yamcha has been training me." She looked around the den and spied the freshly folded laundry sitting in proper piles and such. Her own clothes were folded neatly in their own little stack, though there wasn't much there for her to grab. They hadn't quite moved in here yet, or at least not in the formal sense of the word. She usually had more clothing, but this mind fuck of a week had only allotted to the usual weeks clothing brought whenever they went to her grandfather's house. There was no telling what would go on, but the need for extra clothes was nearly always a given. Pan hadn't been expecting this.

She hadn't been expecting any of this or to be the one smelling of laundry.

Bra rocked forward a little onto the tips of her toes. She was the picture of unease, not sure how to broach this weird tension that had developed between them. Pan didn't quite know how to broach it herself. She knew it stemmed back to the other night, back when her grandfather had basically picked someone else to be his fourth that wasn't really of blood relation—

"Pan?"

She tapered down the anger that rose too fast and left her snarling at nothing. Bra had stopped mid lift, half on her toes and half off, staring at her and the charged air around her and unsure of which way to turn. Pan wanted to tell her to move again, to not pay attention, but she just wasn't in the mood to do any of that. She wasn't in the mood to do meaningless chores, stare at people going insane, or rectify this sudden rift that appeared that night and lingered into the morning when Bra had left their room at the ungodly hour of six almost three days ago.

She let the air stay charged, a little surprised when the blue haired smaller version of Bulma charged the air around herself and stubbornly crossed her hands over her chest.

"Are we really doing this?"

"Apparently," Bra growled. "What is your problem, Pan?!"

"My problem!?" she cried incredulously. "I don't HAVE a problem. I'm not the one walking in here trying to take over other people's spots!"

"I didn't take anyone's SPOT and you know this!" Bra snarled. The girl was a living breathing version of her mother in looks, but the attitude, it was all her father's when she was getting to the point of being aggravated. Pan hadn't seen Bra mad often, but she knew it was dangerous for the one she was mad at. Pan couldn't bring herself to care about her safety. She wasn't the only one angered about something. "Don't make this into something that it isn't!"

"Like you know what it is," Pan snorted. "You're not at the bottom of the Beta pool."

"Pan…I didn't ask for—"

"Didn't you?! I mean, you come waltzing in here and just fucking comply with the insanity!" She threw her arms up, sending whatever clothing was in them spiraling in different directions. She stood up and suddenly she really couldn't keep it in check like she should have. She spun, finger pointed directly at the younger girl with the urge to squeeze her shoulders and either shake the shit out of her or punch her dead in the face. That latter one was appealing and telling. Bra backed up a bit in defense and Pan moved a bit closer sneering her way.

"Pan—"

"Don't! Just DON'T. None of this makes sense. NONE OF IT is OKAY. My **grandfather** is practically fucking your **DAD**." That part just blew her mind every time she thought it and she fought off the shudder that came with memories of walking in on something too disgusting for her mind to wrap around. "It can't get any worse. It just can't…because I thought it was bad when my parents told me they were splitting up." It was bad. Horridly bad. She just looked at the two of them and started bawling, her content little world cracking in places that she never thought could crack. She'd locked herself in her room and forced herself to breathe and wondered how adults just up and decided not to be with one another.

Kids dealt with that every day. Parents split all the time. But not hers. She wasn't supposed to be one of those kids and it was harder to swallow when she found out that her grandparents hadn't been an item in quite some time. Her grandmother wasn't devastated about it. She seemed happy. Relieved. That part she didn't understand.

"I thought it was bad then…but then my father…my **straight** father, goes and falls for the one guy that never made sense to me!" The part about her dad preferring men would have been a more feasible reason to swallow the divorce rather than his saiyan side kicking in late in life and deciding it was time to find a proper mate. Even if it was just that, why of all people did it have to be the one guy who didn't seem to age but was older than her grandfather?!

"It wasn't even a YEAR after they split. The papers weren't even SIGNED," she cried, "And here's my father happy as a clam with this guy I barely know! And then, they want to get **married**." She'd very nearly slammed her skull into something when they announced that. They'd done it at a private gathering of immediate family two years into their little lives together. Of course everyone approved, and when they looked her way she'd flippantly told them to do what they wanted because that's what they were going to do anyhow. She hadn't spoken much to her father in that time until now, civil toward him but angry about it all. She thought that maybe this year…maybe she could stop this craziness…

But no. "My father…is having a BABY." An honest to god it was going to cry, poop, and be messy everywhere BABY when there should have been no baby! He wasn't an omega. He was a beta and that just didn't happen to male betas! "He smells WEIRD now, and that's because my mom is insistent that I use my nose when all I want to do is blow it!"

Bra raised her brow in confusion. "What does any of that have to do with me?!"

"You?! Like you don't know…like you haven't quite figured out that out of all the shit that has been going on, the one thing I thought I could count on was my place in this dysfunctional group! Shit Bra…you come waltzing in here with your wiser than thou shit and managed to steal my spot with my grandfather!" She was moving before she could stop herself, and shoving Bra backwards with an angry shout. "I'm the fighter, BULLA, not you! You're not allowed to take that from me!"

Bra was silent for all of four seconds. She moved on the fifth second, and Pan was falling with a fist to the face on the ground. Pan fell hard on her back, shock on her features as she stared up at the ceiling and eventually up at Bra literally snarling down at her with bright blue eyes. "You don't get to tell me shit, PAN," she roared. "If you want to get technical about it, just because you fight doesn't make you any stronger or smarter than me! If you want to be petty about it, I'm more saiyan than you ever WILL BE. You think you're the only one with issues in here, huh?! Think again you selfish jerk!"

"You little—"

"Shut the hell up. Yes, my father is mated to your grandfather, and so the FUCK what?!" she huffed. "It's their business! You don't know what was going on in my house and you really didn't care until now! My father, while he's not the easiest person to understand, has his reasons for doing what he does, and so does your grandfather! It's something we don't understand but need to respect because it's not OUR BUSINESS!"

Pan quickly lifted herself off of the ground and knocked herself into Bra before the girl could brace herself. She was faster than she looked, but Bra was quicker on her reflexes. That didn't stop Pan from planting a quick jab into her side and ducking under the well-aimed punch directed at her face. He launched herself low, throwing her full weight into grabbing hold of Bra's legs. Bra went with it and fell, falling on her shoulders with her hands pressed on either side of her head to push her upwards and over just enough to use her legs as a catapult. Pan released her before she could toss her and caught the edge of Bra's foot in her chin right before the blue haired beauty spun on her hands and cracked her across the face with the other.

Pan fell into the freshly laundered clothes.

She launched herself out of them with a terrible scream and was caught by none other than her mother ducking in low to grab hold of her waist and twist her away with such ease that Pan froze from shock. It was a moment too long. She felt the tell-tale pinch of nerves deadening and was crumbling as dead weight in her mother's embrace, aware of her surroundings but unable to do much more than move her mouth.

Which she did, without fail. "Mom, let me GO!" she spat. "Why are you interfering?!"

"Because this isn't how I raised you is why," Videl snapped, "and you have no RIGHT challenging someone above you for a spot you did not earn! Just because you're his granddaughter doesn't automatically entitle you have a ranking with a family like this! Blood means nothing. You EARN your spot and young lady you have done everything and more to make me believe that this was possibly the best thing I could have done for you."

"What?! Ooff!"

Videl tossed her daughter onto the couch. Pan was a little shocked to find that her shoulders were still functioning, but her arms and legs were dead to the world for a solid ten minutes. It was all thanks to a little trick her grandmother had taught her mother in their own training sessions, and it came in handy for when Videl really needed to reel in Pan. Much like now.

"You seem to have this weird impression that the world will not change if you tell it not to. Well it does, Pan, and there's nothing short of doing something insanely stupid like gathering the dragon balls and wishing for it to happen that it won't!"

"Mom—"

"No Pan. NO. You will shut up and listen to me and you will OBEY."

Pan wisely closed her mouth.

Videl let out a pained sound of annoyance. She rubbed the front of her head and sighed irritably at nothing and everything. "My relationship with your father? It was what it was. While it upset me when it ended, it wasn't something we could help because we both know that even if he wasn't a saiyan, we would have drifted apart. It's been three years, Pan. **Three whole years**. We're not getting back together. I will always be his wife, but he needs a MATE…someone who can give him what he needs and not second guess it."

"…why can't it be you?"

"Because I knew it was a possibility from the start that it wouldn't last that long," she admitted. She looked sideways, towards another body standing with Bra and trying to calm her raging down while doing an effective job of pinning Pan to her seat with that look of deliberate disappointment that made Pan's inside light themselves on fire and die. "Chi-chi talked to me…and Goku talked to me. Saiyans can have relationships like normal people, but if their mate…their one and only mate…ever happens to appear…they tend to severe ties to get to that person because they need balance."

She smiled a little, a wistful look in her eyes. "We had…have…fifteen good years together. More…and they were all great Pan…but those years are ours, and not just yours. Yamcha spent three months apologizing to me…Gohan denied him for far longer than that…and it was the most miserable I ever saw us...and sometimes you have to let what you know go…especially if you love them."

Videl dried her eyes quickly, squared her shoulders and shifted from compassionate mother to disciplinarian so fast Pan could have had whiplash. She ignored the sting in her own eyes and the lump in her chest, wincing when that familiar fire of distinct disappointment was back in her face and emanating off of both her mother and grandmother in ways that made the air thick with something that nauseated her.

"Young lady, your attitude is unreal and so is your sense of entitlement. After this week, I will be returning to our home but you will not." Pan opened her mouth and hurriedly shut it when her mother pointed her finger at her. "No arguments! You are to stay here with your grandfather and father and obey them and their wishes! You will learn some respect before the year is out or so help me I will disown you!"

"What?!"

"I mean it, Pan! You will learn what it means to earn your place, and it has nothing to do with past actions! If anything they attribute to your recklessness and your inability to follow orders that are within your benefit. If you go charging off at the handle every time, you won't live long enough for me to disown you! Do I make myself clear?!"

The air was thicker than ever with whatever was turning her stomach. She nodded, afraid to speak in fear that she would give back the lunch she'd devoured not an hour ago. Videl seemed to be appeased, but she wasn't done. She spun on her heel and turned to Bra, her finger pointed at her in the same manner.

"You, young lady, need to get a handle on that temper and not let people bait you into fights," she admonished at Bra. "You're more like your father than you think. I'm pretty sure you were a few words away from saying something you couldn't have taken back, and you girls are too good of friends to let something like words get in the way of that."

That may have been true, but they didn't feel much like friends right now. Pan wouldn't look at Bra. The fight was still fresh in her mind and she was still angry that things were the way they were. She'd only wanted one thing, and she couldn't even have that. It was unfair, and she didn't understand these decisions or what they were supposed to do for her in the long run. She said so, unable to say much more than that because there wasn't much more she could think about without screaming, "WHY?!"

Bra, still pissed that Pan had used her real name, wasn't feeling much sympathy for the sulking teen.

She gave a soft apology to Videl for the trouble and walked off, stalling long enough to stare Pan dead in her face as she passed her by.

"At least your father **chose** to have a baby," she said, ignoring the hitch of air sinking into Pan's startled chest. "Mine...if your grandfather hadn't claimed him, some other Alpha would have and he'd be nothing more than a **breeding** machine."

The implications of that statement did not go unnoticed. Pan felt sicker than sick. "…Bra…"

"Stuff it, Pan. Your dad's happy. Mine is trying to get there. Our problems are rather small, petty, and childish, and fighting over something so stupid isn't helping _anything_ or **anyone**."

She vanished shortly after that, leaving Videl blinking, Chi-chi trying to keep a smile under wraps and Pan feeling like someone had stepped on her soul and defecated all over it.

"She's definitely Vegeta's," Chi-chi remarked quietly. "I'm starting to see why Goku chose her for a fourth."

"She's like her father?" Videl asked.

"Yeah…she's basically a raw version of her father…if Goku can ever get him back to normal."

Pan realized belatedly that it was shame that was making the air nauseating…and it was her own shame suffocating her as she realized that her nose was bleeding all over the clothing.

* * *

Just...head for the next chapter. I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.


	14. Double or Nothing

**AN:**

Look! LOOK! Resolutions!

And...and...just read it!

**Chapter 14:** Double or nothing

Vegeta really didn't know how it happened.

The day was passing by as slow as ever now. The air was still warm and the day hadn't quite passed the hour of three. There were still things to do around the house, but Vegeta wasn't involved in those things. They were delegated out to others, and he was sure there was shouting somewhere moments ago. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what the shouting was about or why. It was his duty to keep the peace, but at the moment he was a little preoccupied with sitting on the bed, freshly showered and somewhat dazed from being dragged into their room by a cuddle crazed Alpha that wanted nothing more than to smother him for an hour in silence.

Seriously, it was the best short nap he would never admit to.

He was just sitting there though, not really thinking about anything or anyone as his Alpha puttered about the room looking for something of his he had misplaced. He wouldn't say what it was, and Vegeta knew better than to try and guess. He still had dinner to think about the prep in a little while, which is why it was so off putting to be bombarded by the presence of his eldest boy outside of the room nosing his way to peek inside.

Vegeta had never been so glad for pants before. He was seriously thinking about not wearing anything for a little while and decided against it, which to his benefit wasn't scaring his boy pushing the door open gently as he took on whatever death warmed over looked like. It looked a lot like a severe lack of sleep with a touch of bedhead and disorientation and the sunken in evidence of dark circles making pale skin look like tissue paper.

Vegeta really didn't know what to say about it, or to say to him.

Trunks really didn't know what to say to him either.

They kind of stood there or sat there looking at one another, unsure of what to do or say, until Vegeta made a light motion of his head as if to say come in. Trunks warily looked in the direction of the closet, but quickly swallowed his initial fears and charged into the room, darting over the carpeting and onto the bed to grab hold of his father's waist and bury his face into his stomach muttering something incomprehensible to someone who hadn't heard it before.

Vegeta had heard it before. He heard it every time his boy wanted to cry but sucked it back in for the sake of being strong and keeping himself and his emotions in check.

That, admittedly, was Vegeta's fucking fault, and the older saiyan **_hated_** it.

He drew his legs up to cross them beneath him and leaned forward to curl himself around his son's head and shoulders, simply resting his weight against him and breathing as slowly as he could. This was something they didn't do, simply because Vegeta wouldn't allow it. Getting attached to things, to people, it was dangerous, and he wanted nothing more than his beta son to grow up strong and not let his emotions take hold to land him in place he could never dig his way out of. It was as good a defense as it was an offense…at the time.

His son was raised as more of a human than a saiyan. He'd allowed that to happen, not really expecting **this** to happen. This meaning the whole Alpha thing and his…own status. Omegas weren't meant to breed outside of their original purpose and the fact that he had and managed two betas…he ignored the stuttering of his heart. He couldn't have handled bearing an omega and damning them with what he had to go through. Of course his son would not understand. Of course his son would react that way.

Of course his son would feel so fucking guilty that he would nearly give himself a disorder over the last two days in trying to comprehend what he should have known already.

His fingers threaded through the soft purple mess of his son's bedhead, soothing that tension and forcing the stiff shoulders hunched up to his ears to lower and relax themselves. Somewhere in the midst of this the rest of his son's body made it onto the bed and he just sank like dead weight into the mattress and onto his father and would not let go. Vegeta wouldn't have let him even if he tried. The prince part was getting quieter and quieter these days, and the omega piece of him was more than willing to hush the light sob his son gave when he said quietly, "I'm so sorry…"

Who wasn't sorry these days?

Vegeta saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Goku was emerging from the closet, having found whatever it was he'd been looking for. There was a brief moment of panic before Vegeta steeled himself and stared at his Alpha and that questioning face tensing up for an argument that didn't necessarily have to be. Goku started to growl but Vegeta growled right back, holding his son a little tighter and refusing to let Trunks move from where he lay desolate and trying to put broken pieces together on a board that was totally warped.

Yes, this was **their** space, but this was their **_son_**.

Technically.

Alpha's usually didn't back down from anything. Usually. Today was one of those days where Goku put his hands up in quiet surrender and left, a little perturbed but not so much that he was really angry at anyone or anything. Vegeta watched him go, confused but relieved that it hadn't escalated into a shouting match or worse. They hadn't fought with one another since that night, though it was more along the lines of Vegeta screaming at Goku that he was an idiot for choosing damaged goods and Goku screaming right back that he didn't care about all that amongst other things, including the whole "too fucking stupid" comment that still chaffed at Vegeta's ego because come on…that would make anyone a little less than happy. The prior two days hadn't been sunshine and gumdrops either, but it was rather nice not having to think about certain things.

Their children seemed to want to take up that mantle with their drama.

"How's the face?" Vegeta questioned softly. "Still hurts?"

"…not so much," Trunks sniffed gently. The light whine he let out afterward told Vegeta more than Trunks would aloud. He was still in a considerable amount of pain. Vegeta normally would have told him to just suck it up and take it like a real saiyan, but he was in no mood for that front or to see his son suffering more than he had to. He lifted himself a bit and gently moved Trunks' head enough to see that wound for himself once more.

The wound itself was a straight mark running across the bridge of his nose. It had turned black and blue over the course of a couple of hours the first night, which had prompted Goku to get Trunks an ice pack and sit with him in his room until he had fallen asleep. The bruising had faded a lot since then, but the pain lingered like any wound would. Vegeta didn't know if Trunks had slept much at all since then. The one thing he knew about his son better than anything else was that he was stubborn and his guilt ate him alive when it was ready.

That guilt was probably making that wound more painful than it actually was. He couldn't know what was going on in his son's head, but he had a good idea. "I didn't want you to know."

"I know," Trunks murmured. "But…everything makes a little more sense now."

"…I need to fix this."

"…How?"

Vegeta really didn't know. He rubbed the top of his son's hair. "I'll figure it out."

"Dad?"

"hmm?"

"…does he hate me?"

A small laughed escaped him. Only his son would think something like that. "I don't think so." 'He' could be attributed to a lot of things. Trunks could have meant Goten, his best friend who hadn't once talked to him since that night, not even in secret when they knew no one was watching. Goten had done his absolute best to avoid Trunks, but not because he hated him. Goten would never hate him. It was that little fact that made it twice as hard on Goten because all he wanted to do was talk to Trunks. The punishment was still in effect however. No one outside of Vegeta and Yamcha were to address Trunks in any social manner. It was a way to teach him his place, a hard lesson that was taking its toll on his son much sooner than anyone thought.

Trunks could have also meant Goku. Vegeta had to smother another laugh. That same night that Goku had stayed with Trunks, he'd trudged back into their quarters muttering under his breath worriedly. Trunks had always been the purple headed son he never had, and he hated more than anything to punish those he cared about even when they deserved it. It was the first time in a while he had to discipline someone in that way, and he really hadn't meant to mark Trunks like that. Not the human piece of him. The Alpha piece was more than pleased about it and sure it was an effective method compared to what could have happened. Goku had been conflicted enough to keep Vegeta up with his worries, until Vegeta had silently told him to shut up by dragging him down under the covers and cutting the lights off. He then pinned himself to his side and bade him to sleep with a soft "You did what you had to," and leaving it at that.

If Goku thought Vegeta didn't know that he had been sneaking Trunks apples and fruit here and there, he was sorely mistaken. It's what made Goku unique, and why Trunks wasn't so up in arms about being in his space right now.

Vegeta knew for sure that Gohan didn't hate him. Gohan really wasn't even concerned about Trunks. He was more anxious about his little one than ever and today he'd been a ball of energy that wanted to burst the moment he and Yamcha finally left the house.

The only one that might have had it in for him was Yamcha…with good reason.

Vegeta knew his son didn't want to hear it, but he said it anyhow. "You're going to have to earn Yamcha's trust." His son stiffened and sagged again, another soft whine leaving him as he hugged his waist tighter. "You really disrespected him..."

"…but I don't…I didn't…feel that way about…Gohan…"

"You never really mean to…and it will go away," he assured. "But you need to mind your teacher and his wishes. I am the last person on his planet that should be telling you that…but," he said with a tight swallow, "I don't want you to be weaker for not knowing how to respect someone…I don't want you to be…me."

It was as if this knot of unknown bundled nerves loosened itself abruptly and left them gasping in this air they didn't know they could inhale. Trunks somehow managed to sag deeper and his shoulders shook as his face took on the task of soaking Vegeta's stomach with unseen tears. Vegeta buried his face in his son's hair and let him cry, wishing he'd been able to do it sooner for himself.

The door closed with Goku slipping down the hallway, relief in his steps as he went to tend to a hysterically crying Bra in her room.

* * *

Yamcha knew something was off from the moment he stepped out of the car. Gohan was out and grabbing bags from the back, handing them when Yamcha came around and took them before he could march towards the house. The feeling that something was off didn't increase until he was seconds from opening the front door. It wasn't anything off putting that sent his senses into the danger zone, but it was enough to make him pause outside. Gohan was two steps behind him, curious but hesitant as well. If it were something bad, he wouldn't have been this close.

He sniffed the air. The scent of dinner cooking was there as was the scent of the others, but…

"Something shifted," Yamcha surmised.

"What, again?"

"It tends to happen when you're trying to establish a well-balanced group." A lot had shifted over the last few days, and another shift wasn't really going to bother him too much. It was much like dough settling. Eventually it would be able to be kneaded properly. Yamcha didn't think too much about it. He put his hand on the door and opened it, ushering his mate inside. "It's probably nothing."

"Um…maybe not?"

"What do you mean?"

Gohan had taken those extra steps towards the living room and pointed at what he was observing. Yamcha, still holding their purchases, nearly dropped them when he peered into the living room.

Vegeta was sitting on one of the three couches, legs crossed underneath him and settled into his spot with his eyes on the softly blaring television which hardly got used. At least it looked like his focus was there. His eyes were slightly downcast, his body relaxed but somehow wrapped around the form of his son settled against his side and snoring softly against him as if it were the most normal thing. His hand was resting against and in the disheveled locks of his boy, keeping him settled in this tranquil sleep he didn't want to wake from. Next to him Goku sat, one arm comfortably settled behind Vegeta's back and the other wrapped around Bra curled into him as she wiped at her eyes from time to time. They were red rimmed and puffy as if she'd been crying, but her troubles weren't with the Alpha rubbing her shoulder in comfort and making her laugh when he made a snide comment at the television. At his feet, sitting on the floor was Goten, with his back pressed against the couch, one arm propped on his father's leg and the other mindlessly scrolling through his phone as he chuckled at something.

Peering deeper into the room, they found Chi-chi and Videl sitting next to one another, engrossed in knitting work of some type or curled up into a corner reading a book without a care in the world. Videl nudged Chi-chi from her book and held up her little piece of work which got an amused squeal of grandmother's approval at the thought of who it was for.

Pan was nowhere to be seen.

Yamcha looked back at Gohan. They'd only been gone for a couple of hours…just four…and this was certainly NOT what he was expecting to come home to.

Goku noticed them in the entryway and grinned as he announced, "You're back!" which in turn sparked just about everyone to sit up, shuffle themselves forward, or barely open their eyes. Trunks really didn't have it in him to stay in the land of the living and fell back asleep with his father trying not to look like he was fond of that.

Yamcha's slight shock was pushed aside for his own excitement when his mate pressed himself against his left side. They were practically vibrating, which could have only meant that things had gone well at the doctor's visit. It was catching, and soon everyone except Trunks was up and leaning forward to see why Yamcha was grinning like an idiot. Trunks was still out cold for the duration and Vegeta was content to sit there and let him sleep. He did turn his attention towards them with the others, a soft look of wonderment on his face as he studied Gohan blushing vividly and smiling like he'd gotten the best news ever.

"So?" Chi-chi asked. "All clear?"

"Yes, and we found out a few things that we…weren't expecting," Yamcha admitted. Granted when they found out about it, it shocked them quite a bit, but it made sense considering their bloodlines at this given point in time. He looked at Gohan, smiled again, and said, "Apparently this isn't a nine month deal…its more around seven."

"Seven? Isn't that a little early?"

"…not…really, no," Vegeta said, startling everyone with his voice. It was a little unnerving to have all eyes on him, but the question did need a proper answer that the doctor surely could not give. "Full blooded saiyans usually carry their young for about six months." He'd forgotten about a good bit of his instincts, but the facts were there in blaring red lights. There was no way he could forget what was drilled into him, not when there had been a chance of it happening before…and now. "We…tend to get…testy, so…longer pregnancies just…no."

The girls took that into consideration. "But Chi-chi and I carried for the full term…" Videl mused. "That's a little strange…and envious."

Envious, yes, but better off for everyone who couldn't handle a testy pregnant saiyan. "It works differently with species close in compatibility with our race." He thanked the heavens again for huge miracles and species incompatibility with certain white and purple freaks. "The only difference physically between humans and saiyans is our ability to generate massive amounts of ki, we're much stronger, and…that giant ape thing…" Yeah, there was still that little problem. A pregnant saiyan in their ape form was not a good thing.

"So, since he's half saiyan, shorter pregnancy." Videl crossed her arms and glared playfully at Gohan. "You're so LUCKY. It's not fair I tell you."

"You're hiding something," Goten said. He could see it in the way his brother held himself; just a bit too shy and red in the face, but not embarrassed by whatever he was hiding. He just wasn't sure how to say it. "You might as well spill it," he suggested with a light laugh. "Did you buy a crib or something?"

"We're not looking at cribs yet," Yamcha said. "At least not until next month."

"Because you went and bought things today, correct?"

He grinned. "We did…but we have to go over the finances again because we have to double our purchases."

"Why would you—oh. Oh. OH MY—are you serious?!"

Gohan nodded enthusiastically and went with the kiss of praise on his cheek. "We're having twins!" Yamcha crowed next to him. Chi-chi was up and screaming in joy right along with him and running to slam herself into Yamcha and kiss him repeatedly on his cheek. She was a little more careful when she moved toward her son, but the hug she gave him was just as jovial and excited. She quickly got caught in a smothered hug from her son and soon to be son in law, squealing in sheer excitement at the prospect of twins soon to be gracing them.

Videl was the next to congratulate them. "Now I don't envy you," she said as she hugged Gohan. "You know you're going to be banned from sugar, right?"

"So I've been told. Where's Pan?"

"Sulking." She pulled away and sighed tiredly as she looked over at Bra wiping at her eyes again. "She and Bra fought today…and not just with their words."

"Fought?" The physical aspect alarmed him more so, which was cause for his mate to stare worriedly. It wasn't stressing him, but the worry would not abate. "Over what?"

"Meaningless things," he heard his father say. Normally he would have been the first one up and grinning and happy and cheering, but he was occupied with settling a rather upset Bra burying her face at the sound of Pan's name. They had never fought to this extent before, laying hands on one another, and the shock had shaken Bra so badly that she hadn't been able to stop the on and off waterworks. He'd gotten some of the story from Bra between sobs and the rest from Videl and Chi-chi a little later. He hadn't quite gotten around to talking to Pan yet. His granddaughter had holed herself up in the room an hour after he'd managed to vacate Bra from it and refused to come out.

Goku wasn't going to tear down the door because his granddaughter was acting up. While he ruled the house, his concern was more upon his immediate children. Pan was Videl and Gohan's concern, as well as Yamcha as he was Gohan's mate, intended husband, and her technical step-father in all rights. Goku really had no true place disciplining her unless all of her parents allowed it.

That piece dawned on Yamcha as he shared a look with Goku. He didn't grumble, or role his eyes, or resist the immediate growl that surfaced. This was unacceptable behavior, and an embarrassment that needed to be rectified right now.

No one moved to stop Yamcha as he quickly moved from the living room and headed towards the back of the house. The house was easily navigable having lived in it long enough to know who stayed where. Their room was at the end of this particular hallway he turned into but the girls' room was on the opposite end. He marched right for that room, swore something under his breath and proceeded to do the one thing he didn't think he'd have to do until his own kids were teenagers.

The whole living room shook with the loud snap of wood and Pan's frantic screams of "What are you doing you jerk!" and "Someone help me!" amongst other things that didn't look good on anyone else but a sailor. There was a scuffle and a sharp sounding gasp of pain before they saw them again, with Yamcha emerging the victor and Pan sporting a brand new mark on her shoulder in the shape of Yamcha's teeth. He'd staked his claim upon her, declaring her his as a paternal unit. She, of course, was not happy about this but she wasn't stupid enough to further piss off Yamcha shoving her forward towards the couch where Bra was staring at them wide eyed.

Pan swiveled around to storm off again.

Yamcha yanked her back by her shirt and snarled at her.

"What is your problem!?"

"My problem is your total self-absorbed attitude is what!" Yamcha yelled. "What in the hell do you have to fight with Bra about?! We don't lay hands on family outside of combat!"

"Oh, so now you're going to give me the fifth degree?! You're the last one to talk, and you're not my father! And this would have never happened if you hadn't—"

Yamcha cut her off with his hand clamped firmly on her mouth. "No." He wasn't going to hear that. He wasn't in the mood to listen about places and spots or whatever petty nonsense was going to come out of her mouth because she couldn't see the bigger picture. The tension in the air was thick and blinding, and for a moment there was a fear of something horrid being done. That fear wafted from Pan. She stared at him with wide eyes, wider still when his eyes glimmered with gold briefly. He couldn't contain himself when he was this angry, and he wasn't even angry for himself.

He was angry for his mate. He was angry for Videl. He was angry for those two little lives that hadn't asked for any of this. He was angry that this hadn't been settled and two friends had to fight because one girl couldn't quite get it in her skull that it wasn't about her or involved her or was any of her fault!

And then he wasn't angry at all.

"I can't…believe…I just figured it out," he muttered, deflating visibly. "Damn it…"

He snatched his hand from her questioning mouth. She tensed, ready to mouth off again, but he shut her up by doing the other thing he'd never think to do.

He hugged her.

She froze.

"Pan, I have no idea what in the hell is going through that head of yours," he said quietly, "but getting stronger doesn't fix **shit**. Holding onto a makeshift place isn't going to fix anything either." She inhaled and tried to let out a breath, but it wouldn't come. He didn't think it would. Not the way she wanted it to. "You're always going to be **their** kid. You're always going to be **his** granddaughter." When he felt her sag, he smiled wryly at himself for not having thought of this before. Being an only kid himself, he should have put the clues together sooner. "Bra isn't taking your spot…and neither will your new brothers or sisters when they get here. You're always going to be Pan…even if it seems like the world is fucked up right now."

She inhaled again, but the air she let out was a quiet broken sob that said more than she could. She clung to him like a life line, soaking his shirt quietly and quickly with her flooding face. Yamcha was joined by Gohan and Videl shortly, and the three of them hugged her tightly.

Chi-chi excused herself to check on something as she suspiciously wiped at her eyes.

Goku dropped his head onto the back of the couch. His exasperated grunt did not go unnoticed by Vegeta. That grunt was the sound for "FINALLY!" which in all was the proper response for moments like this. The immediate drama was over. Their children still had to work their issues out for themselves, but it would turn itself around soon enough. Goku was just glad to be done with this for the moment and his stomach was more than happy to agree.

Vegeta probably knew then what he would acknowledge in full force later. The relief in Goku's shoulders was something he'd seen each time the Alpha had managed to come out of a battle without getting killed in some manner. In all his time of knowing the outside pieces that Goku had allowed to be perceived as his personality, there was one piece that held true no matter what the situation. He really and truly held no qualms about how he went about things, even if it meant an ugly confrontation or pushing someone's buttons. It was the end results that mattered, and the less he had to do to get the point across, the better.

The taller saiyan had set this entire thing up, and Vegeta could only guess the many reasons why.

He looked down at Vegeta, a question for food lingering in his eyes. He'd sniffed out the muffins already. Dinner was too close to done for him to score one of those and Vegeta told him so with his raised brow. The subtle pout given wasn't fooling anyone. Neither was the light nuzzle given or the soft kiss on his cheek.

"Half. And I mean HALF of ONE," Vegeta corrected. "You're not inhaling all of my muffins."

Of course the word 'muffins' would wake Trunks. He opened his eyes with a snort, looked upwards, and twitched his nose to see if that word held truth in it.

"After DINNER for you," he instructed. His son looked a little forlorn. That punishment…a week was just too much for his boy. He looked to Goku, and Goku shrugged. It was up to him. Vegeta changed that look on his son's face immediately with a light caress of his head as he said, "I mean after you eat at the table with the rest of us."

"Does that mean I can FINALLY talk to him now?" Goten asked. "This is murder!"

"You can talk to him while you both go set the table with Bra."

Goten was already up and on his feet, reaching to drag Trunks from his comfortable spot and up. Trunks went with a light groan, happy, but cautious of where he stepped as Goten dragged him along. He managed to snag Bra's outstretched hand on his way, and the three of them headed for the dining room to set things up for dinner with Goten complaining about the silence he had to endure for the last two days.

"I want one of those." Vegeta looked up at Goku again, this time falling into the light kiss on his lips. "I want one of those infuriating little brats that you can't help but love because they're insanely cute when they're wrong and you're proud of them when they're right. I want one…and I want one with you…when you're **ready**."

"Me?"

"Yes. **You**. And if you're never ready…it won't change a thing…because four is better than none…and I think we did all right."

He was getting used to the warmth that came with that mark on his neckline. The blush on his face? Not so much. He wasn't sure about ever letting some other little life cling to his broken form, but Goku, the infuriatingly smart simpleton who was more complex than a maze, seemed to have faith that he could do that and not manage to mess it up.

For the first time in a long while, he lifted his lips in content and pushed himself into the Alpha's side, and he didn't mind when Goku managed to wheedle two muffins out of him before dinner.

* * *

And the initial DRAMA is OVAH.

HUZZAH~~!

I'm actually pleased with this. :) - Look, I'm smiling. See?

We will deal with the upcoming issues of Bra and Pan making up, and Goku talking to Bulma, and the rest of the gang finding out, and somewhere along the line include like...a lot more sex(maybe), later on. Until then, this is as good of a stopping point for the moment.

I'm going to play temple run.

Thanks to all who gave me their honest to god opinions and didn't die from the drama. :D


	15. Life is about Moments

**AN:**

All right...it's been half a year as it was noted to me by...yeah, I'm not going to call you out SlytherinQueen020, but it's totally your fault that this is here right now.

I'm so not going to openly blame you for this chapter being here, right now, a day late because I overslept, and longer than usual because I felt the need to spruce this thing up.

Nope. Not even going to. Why? Because I am a GOOD PERSON. :D

In case everyone missed that, I was being sarcastic. Of course it's all her fault, I blame her for this and you should too. Totally thank her ass too. I know you've been waiting but I totally got caught up in school and more recently seasonal work that is just not worth it.

On another note: Happy New Year!

And don't worry. Your questions will be answered soon enough. For now, endure the time jump and flashbacks.

SEE?! MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY NEW YEAR SLYTERINQUEEN020! HERE IS YOUR GIFT. *points* Read and be merry!

(and I kid. Slightly. Nah. Nope. But here you go anyhow. lol)

* * *

**Chapter 15:** Life is about moments

The hottest days of the year had come and gone with the heated fights that had plagued them for a time. The weather was changing. It was a subtle shift from hot to warm and soon from warm to cool. Nights that had been enjoyable without the necessity of a jacket were almost gone; the air of the night not chilled enough to be uncomfortable but noticeable for the shifting seasons. The ever greenery of summer was starting to fade. The colors of life beginning to slumber were readily appearing upon the leaves of trees and in the sudden appearance of animals foraging early for the long winter months that would come soon enough.

Vegeta placed his hands on the counter, staring out into the world. He could smell the onset of rain from the open window and see the looming clouds sheltering the once bright skies. Summer days were indeed leaving them, and rain would fall to snatch more of the left over warmth away. He shivered, silently yearning for the sun to shine just a bit longer, as if losing it would end this strange existence he'd known for the last three months.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

It was hard to believe that it had been that long already and that he and Goku had not killed one another yet. Some attributed it to fear, and others thought it more of an adjustment period before old habits came back and threatened this fragile bond trying to settle between those within this house. Vegeta knew better than anyone that they were hedging bets on how long it would be before one of them blew up at the other and started the next roe in the house, and for a while, he thought it would be himself.

In fact it was the very opposite that allowed him to shake his head and lean into the embrace he'd become accustomed to. "Just…thinking is all." He hadn't started one single fucking argument in these three months that had escalated to violence, and that was a feat he could honestly and truly be proud of.

Oh, they still fought, but not like others expected them to. They didn't fight for the reasons one would think, and a lot of it had to do with Vegeta's never ending conquest of conflictions. He snorted quietly and didn't dare think about the amount of money he would have lined a psychologist's pockets with. That quack would have had a field day and shoved several pills down his throat and recommended that he keep seeing them for a number of months, years, or until they or he died. Vegeta didn't have the patience to see anyone that would tell him what he already knew, but he apparently didn't have the patience to sort through the mess that was his head at times.

Most days, like today, were good days. A good day was a win in anyone's book and a step forward on the progress wheel. Ever since that fight they had in the woods, Vegeta had silently decided that if Goku could attempt to see the value of his worthiness, then he would try as well. It wasn't always successful, but he needed to often remind himself that Goku wasn't the preconceived notion of what Alphas tended to emulate…most days anyhow. Had anyone suggested otherwise at the beginning of this, Vegeta would have slammed their face into the ground and made sure they could never breathe right again. Their beginning wasn't what one would call foreplay…it was more like flirting with death and rudely reminding Vegeta that just because he avoided the issue of being an omega, it didn't take away the necessities that came with it.

Plain and simple, omegas were a rare breed made to be bred plain and simple and provide strong heirs for their alphas so that the line of dominance could continue. That was the bottom line that made Vegeta shudder in a way that made him want to vomit at times. Back when he was younger, omegas were only used for that reason, treated fairly only when they managed to conceive and prove their worthiness. Of course this was while he was within the dominion of the freak, so his take on the matter was purely because of warped mindsets and a driving urge to keep Vegeta under wraps. Oh it worked…it worked so well that Vegeta had suppressed the other reasons for why an alpha and an omega were paired.

He leaned into the kiss pressed on his neck. "I hope you're thinking good things," Goku murmured, kindly rubbing Vegeta's shoulders. "And I hope you aren't mad…"

Vegeta shook his head. "I'm not…I get it…I just…need time."

His Alpha hummed a soft sound of acceptance and his unwillingness to pry unless it was urgent. There was nothing pressing on his mind besides the usual—the disbelief that this was his life right now and he didn't hate it or the one who'd basically forced him into it. In another life or at another time, it might have been a different story. Had it been anyone else, Vegeta was sure that none of this peacefulness would have been. As it was, he turned his nose into Goku's neck and inhaled, nearly boneless as he ignored the way his hands drifted around his stomach and Goku said nothing about it.

A lot…had changed.

A good bit of that change was this empty feeling squirming within him and scaring Vegeta senseless.

* * *

_He really didn't remember when he'd fallen asleep on the couch. Vegeta had been sitting on the couch in the middle of keeping himself occupied when the urge to sleep had come and slapped him over the skull. The comfort of the couch didn't help him fight off sleep, not that he would have with how tired he'd been lately. Running the house had never been something he'd thought he'd do, nor intended to, but apparently being the mate to an Alpha that could very well do for himself required that one tend to the everyday things he couldn't get to…like cleaning. There was so much shit to clean in this place._

_Vegeta barely remembered where he'd tossed the dust rag when he remembered that he'd just woken up. Not much would have woken him up outside of his own volition, but there was something going on nearby that prodded him further into awareness. It wasn't anything that made his senses squeamish or had him ready to turn tail and run for the sake of his own sanity—or safety because he was a paranoid son of a bitch at times—so he allowed himself to face full awareness and glace over at the movements of two bodies._

_Gohan was sitting in what was becoming his favorite spot on the couch. He was partially hunched over, arms around the broad shoulders of none other than his mate Yamcha shaking vibrantly against him. Vegeta sat up a bit more, straining to understand that momentum, realizing belatedly that the grown man was crying…and laughing. Gohan was in the same state, but his smiles outweighed whatever sadness could be assumed upon his face at first glance. He wiped at his eyes and let out a small laughing bark, pulling away to kiss that face grinning up at him despite his tears. Vegeta didn't understand what the hell was making them act twice as sappy as they tended to be, at least until his eyes drifted down to where Yamcha's hands were resting soundly._

_That soft subtle rounding had grown...and with it had come an event that had Yamcha laughing hysterically between kissing his mate and the firm swelling of life kicking against his hands enthusiastically. They were joyful and unbearably happy and too engrossed in their little world to see Vegeta get up._

_He didn't remember going anywhere until he quite literally ran right into his mate. It was as if his vision snapped back with his perception of time and he looked up to see that he was outside, under the sun, and staring up at Goku trying to decipher the look in his eyes. Vegeta quickly shoved everything back down and tore his hands away from his midsection._

_He was fine. He was absolutely…fine…_

_"Vegeta."_

_The soft command in that voice was not something he could ignore without consequence. He lifted his head again. _

_Everything smacked him in the gut._

_He was not __**fine**__._

_He wanted… "No…I can't…"_

_Goku didn't say anything. He understood and gently lured Vegeta away from the jovial air to find a secluded spot to recollect his thoughts._

* * *

Goku held Vegeta closer, burying his face in Vegeta's hair and let them stay as they were.

An Alpha and an Omega were often paired to balance one another out. Vegeta had forgotten about this piece of the proverbial pie, as he'd been taking care of himself for as long as he could remember. Alphas, while strong, were aggressive by nature. They could be civil—nice if they were trying hard enough—but they were always keeping a tight rein on their power and tendencies which tended to escalate at ill-favored times. By the grace of whatever deities were lying in wait, a lot of Goku's aggressions were taken out on enemies and things that just got on his nerves, though the last part wasn't seen anywhere near as often. Enemies usually got the brunt of it all, but even a good beating wasn't enough to sate the inner beast that was an Alpha.

Omegas, while meant to be bred and provide heirs, were a grounding force for alphas. Alphas felt the intense need to protect and dominate willing partners who were by nature submissive and good at soothing the irritation of restless aggression constant under their skin. It was a natural phenomenon; a balance that kept the order of things concerning power and how it was distributed. Not much was known to dominate an Alpha outside of another Alpha, unless one thought of the power an omega tended to herald when they were pursued and dominated by a good Alpha. Alphas would fight to the death for their Omega mates, and that happened more often than not. They only held one Omega mate in their pack; one chance to sire a true heir to their power.

If an Omega could not do that…

It was never easy undoing the damage one mask had performed over a number of years. Vegeta knew it first-hand having lived it and still living it now. He was and would always be an omega, but it was hard discerning what pieces of that were acceptable for he and his Alpha, and what pieces were degrading methods forced unto him from his unsettling past. Taking it apart bit by bit was more trying than not and sometimes he just needed to flee and put his head back on straight. Of course his body couldn't care less about where his mind was, and what it wanted he couldn't think to provide without killing himself. A lot of it had to do with the readiness of his alpha, and the other part of it sat in the living room waiting patiently for the day those twins would be born.

His body wanted the same thing…and Vegeta had attempted to voice his concern only to be shot down completely by his Alpha. It was as if his inner walls had collapsed and the omega in him deemed it a rejection. He hadn't quite known how to deal with it, or the uneasiness that came with being around Goku until he had explained his reasoning…which was exactly why the idiot was compatible with him.

Simply put, he just **wasn't** ready. It would only force his mind into a state where everything after his conception was thought as slavery on his part, which was not the case. Unfortunately the conditioning Vegeta had gone through growing up didn't allow for him to think otherwise in certain scenarios. If he were to allow himself to follow that urge without truly wanting to….

He just couldn't do that to himself…and it wasn't fair to his Alpha either.

The rational part of him could see the worst happening. Vegeta had tasted happiness a little too much for him to give it up because of some bodily urge to breed. He wasn't even sure that he could, despite his recurring heats. Goku still hadn't fully claimed him either…not in the ways that would have cemented their union had there been other dominant males around that Goku needed to worry about. He was still untouched; a feat that someone should have been wondering about if they didn't know Vegeta. Yet, Vegeta knew who he was, why he was still untouched, and wasn't in a hurry to be claimed in such a manner. That type of true commitment meant being in charge of a life that asked for nothing and he just could not do that to a child no matter how much of a bastard he was or could be.

He complied with his Alpha for his own reasoning and he wasn't spurned for his decision, though Goku was quick to shut down the thoughts of unworthiness with a look of hatred directed at Vegeta's so called "breakers". If hell were here Vegeta knew it would have opened for Goku to enter its depths and murder everyone on his eternal shit list. He said as much and Vegeta had laughed at him and the fact that he wasn't spurned for his agreement…that tended to end badly in the past as well.

Head games **sucked**. He hated being this mistrusting of everything, including his own urges.

The soft sway of their bodies kept Vegeta grounded in the here and now. Goku tended to do this more and more these days, gently rocking him back from wherever his head had dumped him and reminding him that he was no longer alone in dealing with his broken self. There was no quick slap of a mental Band-Aid and shoving him to do things as he had when he'd first arrived here on his planet…Goku had all but shattered him again and painstakingly took every single piece he could grasp to place it back together as carefully as possible. The saiyan was a masochist…a large loving loyal insane masochist that kissed the side of Vegeta's head and held him even tighter when those fucking tears came.

Goku **deserved** another little him…and Vegeta was just too **messed** **up** to deliver.

"Maybe…the next one," Goku said softly. "When you want to do it honestly…and not because of an urge…we can try."

It was enough to settle Vegeta, and he reached up to kiss his Alpha quietly in acceptance.

Goten grinned to himself in the entrance way of the kitchen, having gotten what he needed without them noticing. Or if his father had noticed, he didn't care. Anyone who really knew the Alpha as he stood without the farce of simplicity knew that he was happiest when he had what he needed, and getting what he wanted as a bonus didn't hurt anyone any. This settled peacefulness was perhaps the least of the many changes around here, though not unwelcome considering the rough start this journey had taken.

Goten trotted back to the living room with several apples in his grasp. Two were for himself and the rest were being split amongst those awake and craving a snack inside the house. Normally Gohan was the first on board with any extra food he could get his hands on, but he was settled into his groove in the couch sleeping soundly for the first time in days. It was the most comfortable spot he could sit in without having to shift ten times just to be able to sit for a couple of moments. It was also a good napping spot as he tended to drift in it whenever he was settled well enough. It was rather hard these days with his stomach getting in the way.

* * *

_"__Goten. Goten!"_

_Goten felt more than heard the call for him namely because he was pelted in the back of the head a throw pillow. He snatched his headphones out of his ears and looked back at his brother sitting on the couch looking like he'd run a marathon. The first thing that came to mind was what had him on his feet and rushing over to silently freak out and urge Gohan not to push!_

_Gohan slapped him in the leg. "Idiot," he muttered, "I'm not in labor!"_

_"You're not?"_

_"No!"_

_"Then—"_

_"Just shut up and help me up."_

_Goten grasped both hands and tugged. Gohan went with a groan of evident relief and shuffled past his brother with an urgency Goten hadn't seen before. He was nearly out of sight when Goten realized what he was staring at and tried desperately not to snicker when he called out to Gohan._

_"What?" Gohan stalled long enough to turn, hands under his protruding stomach that seemed to get bigger by the day. "Are you okay?"_

_Oh, Goten was fine. He was more than fine. "Dude, are you…"_

_"Huh? Am I what?"_

_"….waddling?"_

_He was. He was totally waddling and not giving a shit about it because he had to pee. Goten let the laughter tumble out, knowing he was going to catch hell for it but he just couldn't help it or the glare of death Gohan was giving him right now. His center of gravity was completely off and getting around with extra weight centered on his midsection was probably harder than Goten believed, but it was his brother and he just couldn't contain himself from the humor in this. _

_"I'll never know those joys!" Goten called out when Gohan hoped he knew how it felt one day. He was one of those dominant betas with traits of an Alpha, a fact owed to his father currently missing in action with his mate. Heaven only knew what they were doing, and Goten did not want to stumble upon them. _

_Gohan was soon out of his sight and muttering darkly about throwing something than a harder than a pillow at him. Goten fully expected him to and prepped himself for his brother's return. _

_His heart dropped when not five minutes later he heard Gohan calling for him again, this time from the depths of the bathroom. As much as he loved his brother and those two little burgeoning unborn kiddos sitting nicely in their soon to be "mom", Uncle Goten just did not need to see his brother's bits and pieces…and he couldn't have been more grateful that Yamcha was outside of the house right now._

_He did show up when Goten was in the middle of helping his brother off of the toilet though…_

_Karma tended to suck like that._

* * *

It was still a little difficult to believe that he was this far along. It felt as if Goten had blinked and looked up to see his brother trying to maneuver himself with a beach-ball attached to his waistline. He still laughed at that, and Gohan never failed to throw something at his head for it.

As the months had gone rolling by, the new little lives settled on Gohan's abdomen had taken their fill and grown to proportions that had Yamcha grinning stupidly at every turn and Gohan grumbling about not being able to move properly. His grumbling never lasted long. Yamcha, the ever doting mate that he was, waited on Gohan hand and foot without complaint. He made sure Gohan was always comfortable; brought him plenty of food and water and massaged whatever aches were plaguing his mate away. Gohan never had to ask. Yamcha would know. When Gohan questioned him about his dutiful ways, Yamcha had snorted and said, _"You're my mate, the bearer of my children…why should I treat you any less than what you deserve?"_

Gohan had spent the better part of an hour wiping at his face, blaming it on hormones. Yamcha knew better, and held him for that hour like the proud father to be he portrayed.

At the moment Yamcha was out running last minute errands for the home and the arrival of their little ones. Pan was keeping her father company, quietly knitting something she'd decided a while ago to make for her new siblings. Goten handed her one of the bigger apples. "How's it going?"

"It's…going," she said inspecting her work. "I think I got the pattern right…"

"Hats?"

"Yeah…I never thought I'd be knitting…"

No one did. Goten didn't have to say it. Pan knew it and she was well aware of why she said it aloud every time it surprised her. She still couldn't believe it, even when she bit into the apple and stared down at the pattern in the book she'd gotten from her grandmother. She was sitting here patiently; devoted to the little pair of matching hats she was making for her new siblings without complaint or foul words flowing from her like water down a mountain.

Three months ago she would have thrown the yawn outside and stabbed the needles into the floor in protest. A girl like her? Knitting?

Stranger things had happened.

Once things had settled themselves as best they could—considering the nasty fallout—Pan found herself at the center of a conundrum she hadn't even realized she was in until Yamcha had pointed it out. People pressed into corners in situations that they didn't know how to handle were capable of anything. In her case, she was clinging so hard to what used to be that she was literally ripping what was in front of her into shreds no matter the cost. Not only had she succeeded in ripping it all to pieces, she managed to take out a friendship that had once been too solid for anything to shake.

Pan could not see the obvious answers then. She really hadn't wanted to see it. Pan so desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were that she literally could not see outside of her own blinders and how her behavior was hindering her own progress. Of all the people in the world to see what she couldn't and flail it in her face, for it to be Yamcha? It made for a humbling moment, and embarrassment was quick to take hold of her and leave her unsure of what to do.

When she thought about it on a later date, at the time it seemed justified. She still believed that her feelings were true enough to warrant such a volatile reaction. Everything had been and was still changing, no one was asking her opinion, and her life was being decided without her say or in regards to how she felt. She would realize later that adults handled things in a much different manner than teens on the cusp of adulthood, and she would silently berate herself.

The basic thing she could do—and she immediately did do—was to keep herself on a respectful level. She'd wiped her eyes and properly hid her face when she realized just who she'd been sobbing on at the time, but Yamcha was having none of it. He'd lifted her face and dried her eyes, telling her silently that it was more than all right to break down if she wanted to. She had just stared at him, still confused, still hurt, and in awe of such a person. Anyone in their right mind who had endured the trials and tribulations of an obnoxious hurting teen would have sat there and let that girl cry her eyes out with triumph in their own. Yamcha didn't. He **sat** with her until she'd run out of tears, **helped** her up when he felt they'd spent enough time on the floor, and shoved her into the kitchen to **fill** her belly with waiting **food**.

She decided then that he was insane, and that he must have really loved her father to claim her so openly despite the open protests on her part prior to that moment.

She found after a time that he loved her too, but she figured that out when he marked her shoulder and her mother and father didn't object. He'd taken on a paternal role when he clearly didn't have to, adopted her in his own way when it was not an obligation, and treated her like his own despite their bloodlines. Some would think it was to score points with his mate. She certainly did at first. It really wasn't until she woke the next day and found Yamcha shoving her outside to train did she see the level of sadism in his blood when she saw that her sparring partner was Bra.

He really did care…he cared enough to possibly be tossed into a potential fire just to get them to make amends.

It didn't really work, but the effort was there.

"Uncle Goten…"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"…am I ever going to be forgiven?"

Goten rubbed the top of his niece's head. "It looks like it's coming along," he said. "Give it time kiddo. I'm sure things will snap back when the time is right…but not before. Okay?"

She nodded slightly. He couldn't say yes or no more than she could have. It was all up in the air at this point and she had no one to blame for it but herself; a daily reminder that she drilled into her head more than once a day. She'd made a conscious effort to get along better with the people that had tolerated her meltdown, and for the most part her relationships with those she'd counted as enemies had changed in a better direction. She and Yamcha were getting on better, which made her father much happier and less prone to worry when they were alone with one another. He had good reason to worry once. She was prone to mouth off at Yamcha and Yamcha tended to give back as good as he got. They still had minor disagreements but nothing serious enough to warrant another war.

Her grandfather had stopped giving her the derisive snort when she expressed her opinions on something as well. It was actually a whole three days after the explosion when they spoke to one another, though it was more on his part than hers. Shame and embarrassment tended to keep one from addressing certain people or matters at hand. She'd been hiding in her room when he'd sniffed her out and all but dragged her out to take her into town for ice-cream. His words were, "We haven't raided an ice-cream shop in a minute. We're long overdue!" to which she properly gawked at his reasoning. There was no arguing with him. They were going and that was that.

He'd dragged Trunks along as well.

* * *

_Pan was still in the midst of trying to decipher if her grandfather was indeed bipolar when he stopped short in front of her and looked to the left of him. She'd barely had time to put on her shoes before she was tugged out of the safe haven that was her room when Bra wasn't around to make it awkward unintentionally. It was of no fault of hers, but sharing a room with a person Pan fought with never made things easy. As it happened she was alone in her room today, about two weeks into this self-appointed exile when the door threw itself open and in walked her grandfather declaring that he wanted ice-cream._

_In town._

_From that place they frequented when she was a kid._

_Pan really didn't know what to say. She did move when he jogged over and tugged her off of the bed with a "Come on, let's go already!" coming from him in hurried tones of urgency, as if they had to do it now before something bad happened. She couldn't see anything bad happening from going to get ice-cream, but it was odd that he wanted to do it right now when there was perfectly good ice-cream in the freezer._

_At the moment she was staring at his backside. He was listening intently for something or someone…and then he was tugging that someone into his space with that big fat fake grin that was real this time around. Pan gawked at Trunks gawking at Goku smiling at the both of them as if this were normal. It was not. He knew it, they knew it, but it wasn't like they didn't scream it before._

_Look where it landed them._

_"Um…is there…something I should know about?" Trunks asked cautiously. "I mean…am I in trouble?"_

_"No."_

_"No?"_

_"No."_

_"Then…"_

_"We're going to get ice-cream," Goku declared. "We're going into town and getting the good shit, and then we're going to run some errands."_

_Pan stated the obvious without preamble. "Is the ice-cream a bribe?"_

_Her grandfather shook his head. "I could easily have Yamcha or Goten do this with me, but I figured it'd be nice to do something without you two tiptoeing around me like I'm going to rip your innards out." When they felt their cheeks go pink at the correct assumptions, Goku sighed, rolled his eyes, and grabbed both of them. "Come on," he urged. "I think this is going to take a lot of ice-cream to sort out."_

_Maybe…but she very much doubted that ice-cream would solve anything that they had to air out between them. It would, however, make them feel better. She suddenly wanted a heaping bowlful and understood why her grandfather wanted to go into town to get some. What was in the freezer wasn't enough, Vegeta would more than likely kill them for eating it all, and this way no one else could listen in to whatever they had to say. Her grandfather was taking him out of their living space, out of the range of familial bodies and giving them a chance to say what they needed to say despite what went down._

_She realized this when she'd strapped herself into the passenger seat of the car. She looked up to see her grandfather reach back and pat her on the head as if she were five again. "You always were a smart cookie," he murmured in approval. "You have to use that head more often…but we'll talk about that over your favorite, yeah?"_

_He started the car then, reaching over to observe Trunks idly rubbing the mark that was slowly starting to fade on his nose. She felt the guilt bubbling up from him, and perhaps for the first time in a while she felt that her grandfather hadn't wanted things to change either at first. He needed them to change though…and they—meaning she and Trunks—were too wrapped up in their bubbles to see why. Verbally explaining things to thickheaded people like themselves usually didn't end well…which is why he was here now trying to rescue them from their assumptions yet again. _

_The reasons why would emerge over bowls of heaping scoops of ice-cream and Trunks getting a belated brain-freeze they would all laugh at. Despite this change…he still was Goku. He was a simpleton who was just too damned good at his craft and sometimes it backfired._

* * *

"What are you up to?"

Pan looked up again to see Trunks squatting in front of her. She held up what she hoped would be little hats and gave him a light smile. "I'm trying to be productive."

Trunks sat down in front of her with his own apple in hand. Goten was no longer in sight, which meant that he was off to deliver the rest of his parcels to the other patron in the house. Pan sighed at that, knowing the only other person in the house was none other than Bra. While she'd been getting along better with her dad, Yamcha, and even her grandfather, the same could not be said about her and Bra. Theirs had been a friendship based on camaraderie and trust, and a promise that had been broken into splinters the moment Pan had opened her mouth and used Bra's real name. It was a heat of the moment thing, but what was done was done.

She felt Trunks move, but it wasn't to move away. He reached out and wiped her face and yanked her close to sit in his arms with his face buried in her hair. "She's a bit like my dad in this regard," he chuckled softly. "I'm sure it'll work itself out soon."

She wanted desperately to believe that. Pan turned a bit to rest against him and dragged her eyes back to the pattern in the book; biting into the apple she'd been given. It would be a while before dinner and she was slotted to help in the kitchen tonight. She'd see Bra then…

"Hey, Trunks?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to ask him out or not?"

She got what she was expecting; fingers digging into her sides and sending her squealing into the floor to get away from the onslaught of tickling. It was the only way Trunks could get her to shut up—as he liked to put it. It was an issue she liked to tease him about and he liked to avoid because one: it was an issue that popped up in light of another issue and two: he just didn't know how to deal with shit like that.

She knew it and he knew it and it was the only reason they lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling moments later; quiet but not uncomfortable. Being the two slotted bottom rung buddies of this odd group they called family, theirs was a bond that was formed in the midst of their own hardships with change. They had been friends before, but now they were joined together because of a single person who basically shoved their own shit down their throats and made them eat it…so Pan liked to say.

Said person appeared overhead a few moments later, highly amused and looking mischievous. Pan squirmed and Trunks fully expected her to be the victim of the hour.

"Ah wait—no!"

He was wrong on so many levels.

Vegeta waltzed into the room drying his hands to see Goku pounce on Trunks and wrestle him around on the floor playfully digging his hands into every part that made Trunks jerk and cry out in laughter. Pan was on Goku's back trying to pull her grandfather off but she was dragged for the ride, not that she minded. He watched them in silence, amazed and grateful that things were not as they were three months ago.

"Daddy?"

Well, not between those three anyhow. "Hmm?"

Bra saddled up to stand beside him, her own apple in hand uneaten. She offered him a bite, and when he declined she bit into the fruit and watched the commotion in the living room. Gohan slept right through it all, completely exhausted for reasons that moved with or without him aware. She could see the subtle movements of the twins from here. It never ceased to fascinate her.

"How is he even sleeping through the noise?" she asked.

"He hasn't been sleeping well at all the last few nights," Vegeta said. "He's exhausted."

He must have been to sleep through the ruckus that was Goku, Trunks, and Pan. She stared at the latter of the trio for a moment, her face unreadable. Usually someone would pry right about now and ask her the obvious, but her father did no such thing. He kept his peace as was the norm—not so norm once upon a time—and waited her out until she could no longer keep her own peace about her observations.

"Are…are you ever going to try?"

He glanced at her sideways. "Are you ever going to end this?"

Bra found no answer to that. She didn't mention how her father slowly moved his hands from his waist and he didn't mention how she looked away to keep her eyes off of the obvious fun to be had in the living room. The answer was the same for them. They simply didn't know.

He gently rubbed her back in passing and left it alone. What couldn't find an answer now would find it later, or so he hoped. For now he walked into the living room and caught Pan's attention, and her when Goku all but threw her at him. The girl was taller, but Vegeta was quicker and stronger and had her hefted in the air blinking owlishly at her dangling body trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.

It was enough to break them into unexpected giggles and had them in a heap with Trunks and Goku joining the pile.

Bra kept her distance, lost in thought.

* * *

_Bra lifted her head at the sound of distinct movement coming from another part of the house. It was just a little after lunch; the house was routinely quiet with satisfied gurgles of content coming from the grown folk littered throughout the house. After a month she'd grown used to the dispersing of bodies off to do something or napping; whichever was the preferred activity of the hour. Often enough she was usually climbing into her bed and dropping off, well aware that Pan was all for avoiding the room when she was in it. It was a bit of a reprieve, a sad one, and she took no amount of pleasure in sitting in this room alone to drop off in the silence._

_Her hand still stung. It had been long enough but she could still hear the crack of her hand against Pan's face and see the complete unbridled rage looming behind those eyes. It was never really aimed at her. The reasoning behind it just picked a target. Bra happened to be the victim of the hour that day. While it happened and she couldn't change that fight any more than Pan could, it didn't make it okay. Some people could get up the next day and let bygones be bygones. Not Bra. _

_She was too much like her father in that respect, and she hated him a little for it as much as she respected the reasons why. Her mother was like that as well, and she'd yet to really talk to her since the fallout at her house. That was another issue for another day. She didn't know what her mom was up to and she kind of didn't want to know. If she'd let herself go over what she'd found out…what the hell was she doing now that she knew?_

_That movement kept her from wondering about it. It sounded closer, but one could never really tell in this house where anything was until they ran into it. She really didn't want to run into anything, not with how within hours of being here that Pan had walked in on her father and Goku in the bathroom…and she really needed to _**not**_ think about them or Pan right now. She put her attention back on the ruckus. The scuffling is what threw her off. It may have sounded like one thing, but it could be another…which was the only reason she slipped off of her bed and quietly made her way to and out of the door. She refused admittance to boredom as reasoning. _

_Bra eventually wandered back into the depths of the kitchen. Rather, she wandered to the outskirts of the wide room that she still had trouble believing belonged to Goku. She'd never really taken the time to inquire about this house, where it was, and how he'd managed to avoid another little place like the house he lived with Chi-chi in for the time they were together. It meant thinking about money, about his abundance of it, and wondering just how long he'd been taking them all for that little mental ride. Apparently a lot more had gone one without her than she thought…enough that even her brother still had a hard time adjusting to the new face of the Alpha around here. Goku was still Goku though…but Goku wasn't as one-sided a creature as he pretended to be. She really didn't have too much a problem with it, not when it came down to her father and Goku's steps to do whatever he had planned for him._

_She still hadn't quite figured that part out either. Not that it was really her business._

_Bra began to move into the kitchen when the scuffling began again. This time it was outside and she darted for the closest window to peer outside and see what was happening. At first there was nothing. All she could hear was the noises of two people grunting. She strained to see to the far right, but Goku came flying from the left to land hard on his back with Vegeta leaping up to land on him._

_She bolted out of the kitchen and toward the outside the moment she saw her father pinned to the ground when Goku flipped them back over. Her heart in her throat, she could only think of the worst when she came skidding out and all but screamed for them to stop fighting._

_ No words came out of her throat. There was no need._

_"You dirty jerk!"_

_Her father's laughter stole what would have been her screams._

_Vegeta, unaware of his daughter, pelted Goku in the face with a wet cloth. It was the dishrag, still soaped up and waiting to finish up the bit of dishes sitting idly in the sink. Goku snatched it with his teeth, gagged, and spat it out with peels of bright laughter coming from his mate. Bra had never in her life heard him laugh like that. It did something funny to her insides; it twisted them in such a way that she blinked away the sudden blurriness behind her eyes. It was as if a bright bubble of happy came out of nowhere to sit on her chest and leave her torn between smiling and angry that her father hadn't had a reason to do so before. Goku realized this, and he treasured it like a dragon would guard its most beloved. He buried his face against Vegeta's neck and breathed, humming contentedly when Vegeta reached up and wrapped his arms around him._

_"I really missed this…"_

_"…you did?"_

_Goku nodded and slotted their bodies together as much as he could. "Hurts sometimes…" Bra felt her eyes widened at the small admission. He snuffled a bit and chortled when Vegeta made a noise of question. "Can't…"_

_"Can't?"_

_"Won't. I don't want anyone hovering over me…just like you don't want anyone pitying you. It hurt knowing….hurt more trying to do what everyone else wants…hurt the most knowing…I wasn't doing what I was supposed to."_

_Bra felt her father's arms tighten their hold on Goku. Whatever that small conversation meant, it was for their ears and them to understand with one another. It was a bit enlightening and a clue to a question she'd wondered for a while now. Her father couldn't have been the only one on the receiving end of it; this odd relationship that had come out of the woodworks. She didn't know how it had been affecting Goku, but she had a slightly better understanding of it now._

_She started to leave but stopped cold when she realized she wasn't alone._

_Bra stared at her brother and belatedly the fleeing form of Pan headed into the depths of the kitchen to finish up the dishes._

* * *

A soft moan broke the revelry of the room. The noise hadn't been the culprit this time. They would have heard Gohan openly griping about the noise level if that was the reason behind him waking up like he did. As it stood something else had him awake, though his eyes were shut as he tried to feel out just how aware he needed to be right now. Sometimes the babies stretched in such a manner that it was quite painful, and other times he disregarded it as nothing more than those stupid Braxton hicks that sent new parents running every time they started. Unfortunately—as he and everyone else figured when he hadn't quite straightened out—these were not those misleading fake contractions.

Trunks slipped away from Goku's hold and watched anxiously as the Alpha approached his groaning son. The sharp scent of distress and sourness of pain laced within it was enough to spur him to help his son sit up. He wasn't upright a second when Gohan's hands flew to his hardening stomach. He thought they had been stretching before but this…this was pain on a whole new definition and he'd taken a punch to the gut too many times not to know different types of pain. That kind of pain one could blow away. This…this was something Gohan just about forgot how to breathe through when he felt the sudden drop of his stomach.

"Oh shit—"

"Gohan, fucking breathe!"

Vegeta's hands were on his own. It was a grounding moment and a moment where everyone scrambled to move. Goku was running to find the keys to the car, telling Trunks to help Vegeta get Gohan up off of the couch as fast as they could without hurting him. Trunks didn't have time to think about the fading embarrassment that came whenever he was near Gohan. He was too busy aiding his father coaxing Gohan up when he clearly did not want to move before he was ready.

Goten came running out of the back and was out of the door when his father pointed in that direction. He had to find Yamcha and calmly get him to the hospital where all this was taking place. Yamcha may have been a human biologically, but he was a beta, a dominant beta that trained with an Alpha on a day to day basis. His bond to Gohan was deep enough that he surely knew something was amiss by now. Goten snatched his ringing phone from his pocket and took off, telling the man in no uncertain terms to keep his shit together and just head for the designated area without ripping someone to shreds. Goten would meet him halfway, and then he'd take on beating anyone to a bloody mess if they got in the way.

Bra and Pan were instructed to head to Gohan's room and fetch his things. Bra didn't have time to think about Pan when she was rushing with her into the room. Pan didn't think about the awkwardness still settled between them when she shoved one bag into Bra's hands and took the other. These had been packed for a while now, though they were hoping Yamcha would be the one parading these bags out. He wasn't here and Pan wasn't sure if that freaked her out more than Bra telling her that he would be there soon enough.

She took those words and used them to propel her forward and into the disorder that was Gohan going into labor. Trunks was steadying Gohan while Vegeta instructed him to keep breathing and focus on something else. Gohan's focus turned to trying to break the hand in his own, not that he could or would break Vegeta's hand. He was too busy worrying about the scent of blood permeating the air and the urge to squat and bear down when he was still a month away from the projected date of delivery. This constant pain wasn't the onset of labor…this was ACTIVE labor…

"Only I would **_sleep_** through fucking **labor**," he breathed. "SHIT…"

Goku tried his best not to laugh at his son when he lifted him up and took him out to the waiting car. Vegeta was on the phone calling Chi-chi—the woman would have had his head—and following everyone out of the house and into the car destined to take them toward the hospital.

Of course that would be the moment that unannounced visitors dropped by, although Vegeta would have given anything for it to be some megalomaniac tyrant trying to blow up the damn earth.

He really wasn't expecting to see Bulma.

"Well, shit…"

No one corrected Pan.

* * *

Well that took a turn in the opposite direction of where I was headed...but I decided not to drag it out completely.

Next chapter up soon.


	16. Life isn't a Disney Movie

AN:

So, in the last note I totally gave that to a fellow reader because yeah...it'd been a hot minute and that was my good deed for the year.

In this note...all I'm going to say is...

Ya'll gonna hate meeeeee~~

*already expecting a flurry of "WTF?!"*

On a side note...Does anyone else think it's totally backwards for someone to sit there and tell you that they freaking hate your OC's and that the read was good while it lasted?

And do you think it's wrong of me to totally rip down a story I hadn't updated since 2009 in response since no one really read it anyhow?

I need new fandoms...

* * *

**Chapter 16:** Life isn't a Disney Movie

Getting to the hospital in that car was a memory Goku would always laugh at inwardly.

Someone—a deity that watched too much television—thought it would be funny to rip one of those scenes out of those odd movies where the drive to the hospital involved a lot of screaming, a lot of swearing, and possibly a baby in the backseat when it was all said and done.

Goku was sure Gohan was hoping that would be the case, but those twins were stubborn and his labor pains, while consistent, were nowhere near the transitioning phase. Of course he was in too much pain to think about it, and the screaming for him not to push coming from Pan and Goten kept anyone else from thinking about it either. He'd wound up backtracking when Yamcha told him he was close enough to the hospital to meet them on time. He sounded calm enough, and when Goten questioned his father he was told to, "Get in the fucking back seat and COME ON!" by his brother.

Goten managed to squeeze in the back Gohan, in what he later realized was the worst place he could have seated himself. They were adamant about him not having those babies in the backseat, especially Goten since he was on the side of things where the action would take place. Gohan was in too much pain to sit up right. That left him lying across the seats in the very back with his brother ready but unwilling to catch anything that didn't need catching. Goku had never seen people so panicked over someone having a kid, though he could relate from moments of his own youth when Chi-chi first had Gohan.

It was the first time he decided to start paying attention to things. Gohan's birth was an ordeal and Goku promised himself that he would **never** be that uninformed about anything **ever** again. The Miracle of Childbirth was as it was stated, but no one told him or anyone about the mess that happened before, during, and AFTER it was all said and done.

Regardless of his own moments, he was sure Gohan had some semblance of what was to come…though he was also sure that Gohan was apologizing profusely to his mother and Videl since he was on the other end of the work now. It was one thing to take a punch and a totally different story when giving birth. Chi-chi had said it often enough, and now Gohan was proving her words true. It was indeed strange witnessing his own son readying himself to deliver his first litter and stranger yet that his granddaughter was at his side freaking out when Gohan said he felt the need to push. Goku tried desperately not to laugh at the looks Goten and Pan were giving one another as they coached Gohan, begging him into keeping his legs closed and their eyes from seeing things they never needed or wanted to see. Gohan told them politely where they could shove it and tried to keep breathing like he was supposed to.

The Alpha hadn't said anything through their plight. He wasn't alone in his silence. Vegeta was sitting quietly in the passenger's seat, staring at nothing in particular with his face set in worry. The worry wasn't directed at Gohan or his occasional moans and Goten and Pan crying out in distress. It fell on the car behind them, driving just as fast and carrying the unexpected visitor caught in the middle of all this. Trunks and Bra were with her though not because she asked them to come. They had caught hold of her gaze and decided that now wasn't a good time for questions as they hadn't quite told many people about Gohan's status.

It was cause for curling in on himself.

The Alpha was not pleased about this.

They got to the ER in a short amount of time. Goku parked the car outside of the entrance doors and got out before everyone else. The physicians that were either coming in or walking out stopped at his presence. They didn't bother to scent him or see that he was headed their way with a purpose. They were too busy focused on the car and the car pulling up behind it and how those vehicles being here would block ambulance traffic. One doctor—a somewhat tall drink of water with a smoking habit sure to ruin his pretty face—approached the Alpha to tell him so.

Goku didn't really expect to lose it a little.

"Shit!"

Goku lifted his eyes at the soft exclamation and rounded on the one who said it. Vegeta darted around him and was in the doctor's face telling him in no uncertain terms that he was an idiot…in the x-rated version mothers would cover their child's ears for. He barely witnessed the exchange. He was too busy looking at his fur covered arms and wondering when in the hell he changed so quickly without some obnoxious power burst.

Admittedly, there were some things he hadn't quite figured out about his…Alpha self…but he knew the look on a beta's face when they were being dressed down by an Omega.

In truth, he didn't see the harm in snatching up that doctor by his coat and shaking him…a bit.

"Kakorrot, put him down!"

"Why?"

"He needs that idiotic beta brain of his to do his job and HELP people."

Point noted. "Fine." He dropped the doctor and snorted at his pain. So he dropped him on his backside. He'd be fine with some ice. "He's not touching my son."

"Okay."

"I still want to break his face."

"Please don't."

Vegeta wouldn't have asked him that. Goku knew his mate well enough to know that he would avert his gaze if asked, not because he was obedient but because he was just as tempted to make that pretty nose Roman by carnage. Or at lease lean it to the left because chicks like that sort of thing.

That soft plea/command came from another doctor; a rather soft faced woman who strolled past her colleague with her hands in his pockets. He got up groaning and protesting the misuse of his back, but his woes and aches were not enough to keep him from straightening up in fright when she stared at him. He quickly averted his gaze and shut up.

Goku liked this woman.

"You're an alpha, correct?"

"What gave it away?"

"The stench of piss in the air has risen a bit." She held out her hand for him to shake. "Doctor Reed."

He stared at her hand. The polite thing to do was to shake it. He would have if he wasn't covered in fur. She caught on quickly and waved at him in greeting instead. "I'll just shake your hand when you're docile hmm?"

"Yeah, let's go with that."

"Right. So what brings you here today?"

Goku snatched Vegeta close to him before she could even think about looking in his direction. The smaller went without protest, mortified and relieved in the same suffocating breath he took when Goku squeezed and moved them as one toward the reason they were here right now. Someone had the good grace and common sense to get a wheelchair. Gohan was eased into it and coached to keep breathing by his daughter while Goten snarled at the betas trying to touch his brother.

"Oh dear…his mate isn't here, is he?"

Goku didn't answer her. He was too busy watching the commotion that was a man on a mission to get to said mate landing a short distance away with more than one person on his heels. One of those people was a face Goku hadn't seen in months, not that he'd been avoiding anyone. Reestablishing a close knit unit tended to occupy one's time, and he might have forgotten to tell Krillin a couple of things. Krillin was screaming for Yamcha to wait a damn minute, not that Yamcha would. He was too close to his mate who was crying out in pain and that was a sure signal for all kinds of shit to hit the fan if everyone didn't back the fuck up.

Rather than let carnage occur—nobody wanted to foot that bill thank you—Vegeta took hold of the situation and told everyone, "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

It was kind of hard to do that when he was in pain, but even Gohan managed to keep his cries in check under the shock of that sudden exclamation. Goku stared down at his mate, unwilling to believe that Vegeta had taken hold of the reins and basically pulled this whole train to an abrupt halt. Even Doctor Reed was silent, though more amused than anything when she realized that even her beta colleagues had stopped to pay attention.

"Now listen up," he snapped, no longer amused by anything that was happening for reasons he refused to admit to, "You idiots are not to touch him unless you have express permission from his mate!"

"Who—"

Yamcha skid to a sure stop and shoved one of the doctors out of the way. "Me asshole! Are you okay?"

"Ugh…I think I bruised something—"

"Not you asshat, my mate!"

Gohan reached up and dutifully yanked his mate down to his level. "Does it look like I'm okay?!"

"If you're yelling at me, then yes."

Vegeta resisted slapping his forehead. "My life. He's in active labor," he said spinning him and Goku around to face Doctor Reed. She blinked owlishly at him, still in awe of what was occurring. "He slept through the easy part so he's in a considerable amount of pain…and our kind doesn't tolerate that kind of pain **well**."

"Well then, if you all would just follow me?" She spun on her heel and kicked the pretty boy doctor in the shin on her way to get him moving. "I'll get you all up to labor and delivery and get things rolling, yeah?"

The one thing Goku could honestly say about being an Alpha was that he enjoyed when it benefited those whom mattered more to him than himself. The remaining attending physicians, all betas, quickly disregarded their earlier actions and rushed over to help flanking either side of Yamcha. Gohan was in no mood to be handled by anyone or anything that didn't resemble family or his mate, and Yamcha was totally up for a ripped arm if someone thought about touching Gohan in his presence. They were at a hospital, so he was totally within his rights to cause someone due harm without worrying about if they lived or not. He took hold of the wheelchair and ushered his panting mate into the waiting building, leaving the rest of his family outside to stare at one another.

Krillin, who wasn't alone by any means, leaned over to catch his breath. He wasn't young anymore and running across town—after a man that should have been panting as hard as he was right now—was not an activity on his to do list. His wife, always up for action, stood next to him observing the situation and drawing her own conclusions. She'd known Yamcha had been on edge about something, but this was far from what she'd been thinking about. It made a lot of sense though, not that she would openly ask the questions her husband would spit out soon enough. Eighteen patted Krillin's back in sympathy and moved out of the way of their daughter.

Marron ran over to the first face she saw. Pan was digging in the car for the bags. The car behind theirs came to a stop a while ago and Bra hopped out with every intention to help grab whatever she could. Bulma was still stepping out when her son beat her to it, slamming the car door and running right for Goku and Vegeta standing in the midst of this weird situation about to turn on its head.

Normally Trunks would have stopped short at the sight of Goku in his level four form.

Today was totally not normal. He was slipping into their ranks and their embraces readily inhaling the scent of them when they embraced him back. "What do you want me to do?" he asked pulling away slightly. "Where should I be?"

"You need to be with your teacher to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Goku said. "Yamcha may be older, but he's still a dominant beta…and you know how he gets."

Did he ever. It was enough to have Trunks move and grab Goten by his wrist and drag him along. Pan called for them to wait, running with half of the bags in her hands. Bra grabbed the rest, running after everyone with Marron on her heels hoping that someone would explain why they just chased Yamcha across town to get to the hospital.

Krillin sure as hell wanted the answer to that one. "Okay…" Krillin breathed, "What in the hell is going on?! Why did we just run a marathon in fifteen minutes?!"

Normally, Goku would have shrugged and played dumb.

Today he couldn't quite keep himself from grunting in annoyance when he showed no sign of powering down and Vegeta only moved deeper into his arms. It was going to be one of those days…those ugly days that were highlighted by a large event that would try and overshadow things…but they all knew better. One look at Bulma waltzing up to them without regard for her welfare was a sure sign of shit about to go down.

The only person missing was Chi-chi.

She was probably already inside.

"Goku!"

Or maybe not…

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Goten running back outside. "Unless you're all going to stand here like idiots, move your asses!" he snapped. "She doesn't think he's going to wait!"

It was enough to snap them out of their dazes and get them into the building where Doctor Reed was yelling at her staff to move their asses faster.

* * *

The thing about the calm following the beginning of a storm was that it was always disarming. It was called the eye of the storm for a reason, that being that the eerie stillness in the volatile mess that had occurred moments before was only a brief reprieve that didn't have a set time to stay or vanish. The skies were still grey, rain was still promised on the horizon and thunder would warn of lightning looking to make people jump out of their skins with the winds ripping things out of what was once thought to be sure foundation. Even trees were prone to being ripped from their safe havens, thought immobile but no more vulnerable than a human unfortunate enough to be caught in that mess.

There were brewing storms on the horizon and a lot of it had to do with the disbelieving faces stuck on the new parents emanating pure unfiltered joy from the depths of their souls because of the new lives sitting in their embraces and unaware of adult matters floating between parties in and out of the room. For now, the calm that surrounded the lot of them was not lost on their hearts at the soft coos that rose now and again. They had much to be in awe over, and much to be thankful for.

They had barely managed to get Gohan up to the room. Despite his half breed heritage, the birthing process was the same for him as it would a normal full blooded saiyan; fast, painful, and stressful if anyone who wasn't his mate was around him, touching him, or instructing him to hold on when he clearly did not have a choice in the matter. It wasn't like he could squeeze his legs together and tell the babies to wait! The next person that told him to wait another minute got his fist to the back of their skull and it proved to be too much movement. Gohan fell back on the bed trying not to scream and Yamcha was in his space instructing him to breathe. Gohan fought to do so, but it was a little hard when he felt what he thought was a boulder trying to break his pelvis in half. Doctor Reed was a little alarmed when he said that and more so when she realized that he was crowning.

Rapidly.

Yamcha readily anchored his mate to the bed, coaching him needlessly into what he was already doing without his permission thank you. It wasn't like he'd done this before and this was painful dammit! This breathing and pushing thing was overrated and he just wanted it done and over with and he was all for saying so…after he screamed during a particularly painful contraction and delivered a squalling wrinkled baby in what Doctor Reed considered a new record. Gohan could have cared less about it. He was tired, in pain, and uncomfortable…

_"Here he is…"_

….and utterly in love when they laid that babe on his chest. A son. They had a son. He couldn't see straight, and he realized when Yamcha wiped at his face that he was crying. His mate was tearing up as well, just as smitten as Gohan was. He'd been infatuated before knowing that he was going to be a father to not one but two babies, but his heart didn't know true unconditional love until he saw his son squirming and trying to understand what the hell had happened just now.

Gohan was a sure mess, smiling through his sobs and unable to take his eyes off of his son. He was rudely reminded that he wasn't quite finished by his own body, done with pregnancy and wanting to jettison the next babe out with or without his say so. The nurses took his son and he fought the urge to go after him, bound to the bed and screaming with the pain of the next set of contractions that had his abs in a vice. The pain nearly undid him and he couldn't keep from snapping something in half when his body said, "_That's enough_," and surrendered the next small body into Doctor Reed's hands.

Their little girl was not amused…and let the entire room know with a high pitched wail that only set off her brother and the frightening spike of power that had most of the betas fighting not to submit.

Gohan was clearly baffled.

Yamcha grinned like the proud papa he was.

Their son was an Alpha and his sister was a dominant Beta, and she clearly had her protective brother wrapped around her little fingers already.

All too soon they were whisked away to make sure that the babies were all right. There was still the little tidbit that Gohan had delivered earlier than was expected and there was no telling just how mature the babies were from outside appearances alone. Before they could get the babies out of the room, Yamcha was barking at Trunks to go with the nurses, not that he needed prompting. He was already on their heels, forcing himself to ignore the distressed noises coming from Gohan and in turn the newborns. Instinct was telling him to fix it, to place them back within the vicinity of one another, and he knew if he was feeling this way Yamcha was feeling about a hundred times worse. He was barely keeping himself in check as it was and had it not been for Chi-chi coming to further calm her son…

Trunks turned and walked off after the twins with Goten behind him the entire way.

Yamcha would never admit the relief he felt when Chi-chi came and wrapped her arms around him. All he wanted to do was chase after his children and bring them back...to make sure that they weren't some fleeting dream that he could never hold again and spare his mate that type of pain…but he knew he wasn't a doctor and he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if something was wrong with the twins. He kept his face buried against Chi-chi, focusing on her reassuring noises and her scent. He still remained tense and worried as Doctor Reed went about cleaning up his stressed mate who was not at all pleased about being separated from their babies.

It felt like forever had passed by the time Gohan was propped up in another room, relatively cleaner and settled in fresh linens. He was antsy and irritable as well, snapping at his mate several times until Yamcha—hating when he had to do this—pulled rank and instructed Gohan to settle down and **shut** **up**. The words "quiet down" just weren't in his ready vocabulary and he was just as distressed as Gohan was about the whereabouts and health of their babies, but being up in arms about it wasn't going to make them appear any faster and if he had to Yamcha was ready to tear the hospital apart. Stressing him out wasn't going to stop that from happening and the last thing anyone needed was a rampaging Beta father upsetting other people.

The last time that happened…well, the news covered that incident for days and now there were protocols in place to keep that type of shit from happening.

Kind of like the timely return of their children.

Gohan had grown quiet at the end of Yamcha's firm reprimand. Between the hormones and the stress and whatever else was going on in his head, it was enough to have the grown man in a complete meltdown that had been a while coming. Yamcha **hated** it when Gohan cried…he hated it because it always pulled at something in his chest that made him want to punch the person who hurt him…and he couldn't very well punch himself in the face for asserting his dominance. Like it or not, Yamcha was well aware that sometimes it was the only way for Gohan to relieve himself of some of whatever was stressing him, though he would have liked it to have happened without him pulling rank like that.

Yamcha stood up with an apology on his lips, but he was cut off by Gohan's abrupt and unnecessary apologies muffled in each sob. He quickly sat down on the bed and hugged his mate to him asking Gohan what the hell he was apologizing for with every kiss laid on his head. The small chuff of amusement was music to Yamcha's ears. He may not have been the one who gave birth, but he understood just how much waiting tended to test even the most patient of them.

As the saying tended to go, with patience come reward—the reward being the arrival of their twins when the door opened and two nurses came in with one bassinet. Yamcha could see that both babies were in the bassinet, which had him questioning the reasons why. The nurses looked at one another.

Gohan and Yamcha were flabbergasted when the nurse said that separating them caused their son to set off the nursery into a screaming outrage. Even the only other alpha baby in the room had screamed in distress, and it didn't stop until they had put them together.

Yamcha may or may not have been relatively smug about it.

Cleaned, dressed, and bundled warmly in soft clothes that were just a tad too big, the new additions to their family were now snoozing the day away in the arms of their mother and father. Yamcha sat cross-legged on the bedding provided for Gohan, their eldest and nameless boy resting in his arms and uncaring of the way his sire would gently press his nose to his cheek. He nuzzled closer to the warmth and fell impossibly deeper into this slumber, secure in the arms that would do anything to keep him safe. The new papa couldn't keep his pride at bay. His little boy was an Alpha. It was highly unusual and rare for beta parents to produce Alphas, but not impossible if the trait was carried within one or both of the parents. It was without say that Gohan's family definitely had the trait, but Yamcha had to wonder about his own family…the ones that were humans and not wolves.

He scented his son again, smiling when his boy yawned.

"You're going to spoil him."

This was a known fact that bore no repeating. "I have a valid excuse."

"…what about your daughter?"

Oh, he had a ready answer for that he'd been reciting as a mantra since he'd laid eyes on her small frame. He did so again, firm and believing in the words that came rushing out of him like the wind if he had been sucker punched in the nuts. "I'll kill the first man who looks at her."

Their little girl was just as tired as her brother, asleep and lazily sucking on her fist that had somehow gotten free from her blanket. They couldn't bring themselves to tuck it back in or move her in any way that would disturb her little slumber. She'd been awake for a few minutes before lazily staring up at them like they were the most fascinating things on the planet. They could say the same of her, not sure how they were going to handle raising a girl but too in love with her to care about the how. Gohan tenderly brushed the curls of hair from her face and leaned into the soft kiss pressed against his head. The weight that had been pressed upon their shoulders was finally gone, and all that was left to do was move on.

Unfortunately it wasn't that simple. Yamcha lifted his gaze from his family and stared at the slightly open doorway. Goku stood within it, observing with his eyes and his ears trained on the noise that was outside. Yamcha didn't have to see to know Vegeta was relatively close by, though he had no idea of who was still here and who had left over the two hours that had passed over them. He wanted to ask, the question under that one more than apparent, and it was answered with a soft nod and Goku finally stepping out of the way for the others to finally bleed through with their excitement.

Well, almost everyone.

Pan was understandably the first one in, rushing over to see her new siblings but careful of approaching too fast. Once she felt she was close enough, she practically melted over the sight of the twins…and then she was being pulled to sit down next to her father with a soft "oof" coming from the light but firm tug. Before she knew it she had her sister in her arms and the little nameless girl didn't stir from her slumber. Pan refused to acknowledge her sudden blurred vision, and denied needing a tissue or feeling like her chest would pop open and gobs of confection would pour out.

Chi-chi was waiting with the camera and snapping photos left and right like the new grandmother she was all over again.

Trunks, Bra, and Goten kept their distance. Yamcha waved them over from their self-proclaimed exile of boundaries and handed Goten his new nephew. His son decided to wake up then, blearily looking up at the new faces that surrounded him and deciding ten seconds later that he could care less about them. He went back to sleep, which had them laughing quietly at his brazenness.

Yeah, he was just like his daddy.

The only ones who remained outside of the room were Goku and Vegeta. Goku waved slightly and closed the door before Yamcha could ask him about the bodies residing outside of the door looking in and looking just as lost as ever. It wasn't like he really had a say about it. If this were a normal setting he would have let that curious and slightly appalled face waltz in here and awkwardly accept this as yet another weird thing that happened in their strange world. As it stood, Yamcha really didn't want—couldn't handle or tolerate—anyone who hadn't been established as family near his own. Krillin, as much of a friend as he's been over the years, was not pack.

It was a strange hurt that washed over him and left Yamcha a little unsettled.

Gohan's hand reaching out to take his own kept him from thinking about it too much.

* * *

"So…why are you still…like that?"

Goku really wanted to say something along the lines of, "If I knew, I still wouldn't tell you because the fuck if I know," but he shrugged again as he had done for the last two hours every time he was asked a question that he didn't want to acknowledge. He was still in his level four, a form that usually didn't erupt unless he was feeling like it was necessary to punch some local assholes face in and usual it had something to do with rampaging pricks trying to take over the earth. None of that was happening. He wasn't fighting some royal douche with their shitty monologue rampaging about their power nor looking forward to the next asshole that saw fit to step into that role of their short lives.

Could anyone tell he was irritable? His thoughts certainly broadcasted it and he couldn't have been gladder for the lack of telepathy in the room right now.

Krillin stopped asking questions. He might have turned to his wife if she hadn't left him moments before in lieu of something to eat. Marron had joined her, still confused but sure that she'd get an answer soon enough if she was patient. She was too hungry to really care about getting that answer then and there, so she went with her mom and hoped that they were headed for somewhere that didn't involve the word cafeteria and whatever was on the hospital menu. Eighteen assured her that none of those things were in her future, which was her way of giving the remaining lot of them space to air out whatever was going on.

Goku rolled his red furred arms irritably and glanced at his mate. Vegeta remained partially hidden behind him, head pressed against his back and keeping his gaze down and away from the others. The subtle shivers that wracked his body had not abated; the omega in him was reacting to the scent of new life and being too close to people he didn't consider friendly. This was one of those shitty things about embracing his omega mentality. He didn't want to be around people that his Alpha wasn't on friendly terms with or near anything that would drive him up the wall. Being bombarded with the birth of the twins was bad enough. That he could and would get used to in time and eventually stop rampaging within about having to sire an heir for his Alpha. Once that happened, he would be in some type of condition to really sit down and convince himself that he wasn't a failure.

Right now though, he was trying to keep his head together and not lose it because he could cut the tension between his Alpha and his former wife with several knives and still get nowhere. He kept his fingers clenched in the soft fur of his mate's back. He really didn't feel like dealing any of this right now.

Goku's irritation went up about three notches higher.

Vegeta's face still looked ashen…as if he'd seen a ghost.

Said ghost was standing close by working her jaw for the better part of the time she'd been here. She hadn't said a word to them, not that she really had anything productive to say in the way of what was going on in the background. She was just as stunned as Krillin had been to learn that the only reason any of them were here was because A: Gohan was having a baby (really had their eyes cracked open for that one) and B: Yamcha was the father and they had been mated for a long while. Bulma knew that part already though. Krillin? Not so much.

Even though she stuck around and kept her mouth shut –a lot of that was Chi-chi telling her to zip it with the threat of open bodily harm— Goku had no idea how she'd managed to track his place down, or why she wanted to, or why she'd even shown up. Her popping up at their place like she had was only a sign of the inevitable coming to fall on Goku's head at the most inopportune time imaginable. They hadn't spoken in months. Goku hadn't sought her out even after Bra had asked him to, well aware that seeking Bulma out in her state of mind was like asking someone to stick the knife in and twist it a little more. She didn't need to see him any more than he needed to see her. He wasn't suicidal. Goku preferred to keep his distance from woman that could and would find a way to strike him where it hurt the most if she felt the need.

Their…**_disagreement_**…really didn't have a proper end and he hadn't sought to rectify it, not that she would have sat down and heard what he had to say. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and no matter how anyone tried to justify it or explain it, the end result was the same.

Goku had taken a lot more than her husband. He'd taken her entire family. It wasn't his intention to do so in such a manner, but the kids were grown and could decide what they wanted to do. Of course it was to teach them more about the saiyan side of themselves and hone some humility into Trunks, but telling her that wasn't going to fix their rift any more than explaining why he did what he did. He'd practically stripped her of what she knew and left her gaping at her life wondering when the hell shit decided to go to hell in a yellow hand basket.

It was one of the many reasons why he never wanted to tell her anything in the first place…and why he hadn't bothered to clue Krillin in either. It was bad enough knowing that he would hurt Bulma…he didn't need another nagging conscience in his ear when his own did that enough for not doing what he was supposed to much sooner.

"Goku?"

"It's a long story Krillin…" he muttered. A long story that he didn't want to recall, retell, relive, or remind himself of when Bulma glared at him. "A very long story."

"Well I've got time." The shorter man sat himself down in a chair and crossed his arms. He wasn't moving, which wasn't a good sign for anyone. Krillin was the first one to avoid confrontation, but the smaller man was truly angry, his face getting redder and redder by the minute. "I mean, I just ran across the city after Yamcha for fuck's sake…and only to find out…that he's about to be a dad." He sat back then, a fixed look of complete disgruntlement covering his usually jovial features pointedly directed at the Alpha that felt his hackles rising at the unsaid challenge being sent in his direction. "Imagine my shock when I find out that his…MATE…is Gohan…and ooh, that's right…they've been mated for quite some time now! And how long has **that** been going on, hmm? Oh, and when the hell did Gohan get knocked up!?"

Yamcha and Gohan had good reason to keep their relationship a secret. Sh—Things like this were one of the reasons why they never said anything about how things went down. "They were going to tell people on their own time," Goku bit out. He couldn't quite speak on their behalf, but he did know that telling Krillin while Gohan was expecting wasn't even an option. That was something Yamcha was going to have to tell Krillin himself. "I can't tell you shit that they don't want anyone else to know."

"I assume everyone in that room knew?"

"…yes."

"But it seems like the **humans** get pushed to the wayside in this fucked up development…because you sure as shit didn't mention anything…"

"I told you—"

"Oh fucking horseshit Goku! I don't fucking care if you could tell me or not, that's not the god damn point!" Krillin snapped. "The fucking point is that you didn't think much of me to even consider how I might feel about being left out of something this big with someone I consider a brother! What the actual fuck Goku!?"

Under normal circumstances, Goku might have apologized and begged for forgiveness.

Today…today Krillin got the shock of his life right alongside Goku when Vegeta stepped out from behind him and literally told Krillin to, "Shut your god damn mouth."

Krillin literally sputtered before he could string a single word together. "What?!" It was all that would leave him, all that he could think to say as Vegeta eased himself forward a little more and tried desperately not to fall ill at the pain bubbling in his stomach. Talking out of turn…it had been long enough for him to remember the sharp ache that always came when he did it and how he didn't miss it one bit. He hated it, but he hated the fact that his Alpha wasn't going to stand up for himself nor explain the reasoning behind his actions. They needed to know…if for nothing else than to leave them alone when shit like this happened.

Krillin getting up was bad for everyone. Goku was seven seconds from starting something and would have if Vegeta didn't literally put his hand on his chest and tell him to stop. Krillin eased up from his angry stance. He didn't know why Vegeta had instructed Goku to stop. Vegeta was the last person on this planet that would keep him from harm, despite knowing him for years on end. He paused, spying their close proximity and the way Goku was trying not to grab Vegeta and tuck him back behind him like before. The smaller saiyan had something to say, and he was torn with allowing it or keeping Vegeta from saying anything.

In the end he relented and Krillin couldn't quite keep his shock to himself. "What the hell—"

"I said zip it cueball!" Vegeta spat. "You don't know…you don't know why and you can't know why he didn't tell you shit…because you really will never understand what it's like to be him!"

"Spare me the saiyans are greater than thou bullshit Vegeta. We all **get it**, all right?! He's stronger than us, but that doesn't make him better than us!"

Goku pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Oh for fuck's sake…sometimes I wish I would have stopped placating people decades ago with this simpleton farce," he muttered. It wasn't soft enough for Krillin not to hear. His brows shot up higher than ever. Goku saw and rolled his eyes skyward. "I have a headache now."

Krillin scowled at him. "Just what are you implying?"

"What it sounds like, idiot," Vegeta snapped. "And I wasn't implying that he was better than you…we're **different** Krillin…as in a different species or did the red fur and tail not give it away?"

"What does that have to do with anything!?"

"Everything! Shit, do you know it is physically painful for hi—for us…to keep our natures bottled up so?" He purposely ignored the sudden interest on Bulma's face, still apprehensive of whatever she had to say. Her being quiet was worse than her mouthing off and he didn't know what to make of anything that was going on. All he knew at that point was that he had to tell them…and the sudden violent turn of his stomach wasn't about to stop him. "Kakorrot is not like you…he's not like anyone…he's an ALPHA…an Alpha who's been acting like a beta for far too long to keep it in check now. To be this built up vision of what his family imagines him to be and having to live that lie day after day…to be an ALPHA…and act like a beta?! How…you can't know what kind of pain that causes him…"

"And since when did you give a flying fuck about what hurts him and what doesn't?! The last time I checked, you were still aiming to kill him!"

"Since he—"

"Since Vegeta is my **mate**," Goku said before the smaller saiyan could answer. Vegeta looked at him sharply, strangely elated and horrified to hear the words aloud and admitted to someone outside of their known family. There was no question of it, the mark on his shoulder a clear sign of intention and claim, but it was a big deal to mention it to an outsider of their pack or in **public**. Goku meant it…he truly meant it and it didn't matter if he had claimed him in all ways or not…it was out in the open and there was no going back.

Vegeta kept his garbled shock to himself and let himself be tucked back into the protective embrace of his Alpha. That pain that had been bubbling in his stomach vanished and he sagged into him, relieved. "You're such a fucking idiot," he muttered into his chest. Goku actually had the nerve to chuckle at that. Vegeta forgave his blatant stupidity with a light snort. "A real simpleton."

"Yeah well…time to come clean right?"

Come clean? He was not implying—he was. Vegeta could see it forming behind those eyes and he reached up to tug him down into his arms in open protest to what he had planned. "…Kakorrot…"

Goku shushed him with a light kiss on his forehead. "It'll be fine, Vegeta…nothing's going to happen. Nothing we didn't expect."

"But—"

"No buts…It's time to set things straight…"

"Just what are you two talking about?" They pulled away from one another slightly at the sound of her voice. Bulma was staring at them, still angry but a bit too curious to pay her anger any mind right now. She could never let go of anything that resembled a puzzle; her mind wasn't made to ignore pieces that fit in some shape with one another and for her not to know or find that answer sitting in plain sight. She stepped forward, intending to ask again but found no need.

Vegeta stiffened considerably when he felt it. He only had to glance down at the arms around him to see that the red fur wasn't exactly…red. It had been bright in color before, but now it was as if it had been soaked in blood. It was a slight change to the untrained eye, but to those who had been around people like Goku, the pressure in the air was three times as heavy as it should have been. Vegeta wasn't prone to the heaviness of that dominant air. He had accepted Goku as his own already, and despite whatever doubts he may have had in reciprocation, he could never fall under that loud demand for submission unless Goku willed it. For Krillin and Bulma however, it was quite the opposite. They struggled to remain standing, at a complete loss as to what was blatantly forcing them to their hands and knees. It wasn't just the air…it was Goku without the handicap he placed on himself just to blend in.

"W-what…what is this?!" Krillin stammered. "What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything," Goku breathed. He straightened out to his full height, his shoulders finally lax for the first time in hours. He exhaled slowly, opening and fixing his unnatural gaze on the duo in front of him. He hadn't done this in far too long. "I let go."

"What?! Let go?!"

"He…uncapped the figurative lid…on his power," Bulma grunted. She couldn't hold out. She fell to her knees and stayed where she was, choosing not to fight her position but unwilling to submit as she stared him directly in his eyes. "It's something…that Alphas…nngh…need to keep from being sensed outright."

"Holy shit, Goku, stop!" Krillin shouted. "You're going to draw other Alphas here with that shit!"

The Alpha saiyan didn't budge. "I don't care. Let them," he grunted. "Let them come…let them see a saiyan Alpha and let them understand what mercy is…because I will kill **anyone** who thinks for a moment I'll let my mate **leave** me **_again_**."

"If you feel…that strongly about it," Bulma breathed as she fought to stay upright, "Then…why not let Vegeta choose for himself?"

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me!" She hadn't said a word before now…and he knew there had to be a reason now. Why else would she keep staring up at him even when compelled by her human nature to bow to the dominant one within her space? "All this time…you've been playing with everyone's headspace and letting them think these…lies…it's only fair that you give Vegeta a chance to honestly decide…what he wants…right? I mean, have you ever asked him?!"

"I didn't—"

"That's right, you didn't! You didn't give him a choice Goku…and that's just as fucked up as declaring he's yours by right! He's not your fucking slave…an Omega has a right to choose their Alpha on this planet!"

Vegeta felt sick all over again. The arms that were around him were slackening and the proverbial cap of power was slowly being placed back on. The trembling didn't happen until the pressure had stopped, and even then Vegeta could feel his heart hammering against his back at the effort it was taking to release him from his grip. He kept still, hoping, silently praying that Goku wouldn't…that he couldn't…

"Please don't…"

Goku squeezed…and whispered something softly in his ear.

"Oh shit, no! What the hell are you doing!?"

Bulma shoved herself off of the floor and turned to the woman running at her. Vegeta could see it was Doctor Reed, but even her cries didn't stop the inevitable. He felt it happening before he could turn to stop it, and by the time he'd managed to turn around he found himself staring at empty space.

The mark on his neck grew cold…and the fleeting warmth of that security was ripped from under him with his heart. Goku had snapped the bond…he'd snapped it clean in half, leaving no trace of him and shoving him so far from Vegeta's mind that he almost believed it was a dream. It wasn't a relief. There was no big sigh of weightlessness or a freedom that he readily embraced like someone was hoping. There was only desolation and the sick weight that made his head scream out to recapture the bond before…

_"….it hurts…"_

"Vegeta?"

**_I love you…_**

He clung to those words.

"Vegeta!"

He heard her…he could see the cloud of blue running for him…but he couldn't feel the hands on his shoulders or avoid the abrupt tilt of his world forcing him backwards. The darkness filtered what color he could see…and he was falling to kiss the cold ground with no one to catch him.

* * *

And I feel the HATE.

Anyone who wants the already written next chapter up ASAP, lemme know. :)

_#blackmail #I know you want it #I feel the threats in the room #I feel evil and I love it._


	17. Adrift

**AN:**

So yeah...about that last chapter.

I know people wanted to KEEEEL me.

But, for some odd reason I feel the need to add drama. I think we've had enough peaceful times, yeah?

Okay **TIME TO PAY ATTENTION.**

Does anyone remember a time when it seemed like Yamcha was in a relationship with someone that no one saw in the midst of the whole Cell Saga?

Remember how in this story that Bulma had mentioned his string of flings before he'd finally settled down with Gohan?

Remember how it seemed like Yamcha stayed single for a period of time and traveled the desert with Puar?

Remember how evil I am?

Yeah. Brace yourselves for the coming chapters after THIS.

* * *

**Chapter 17:** Adrift

_"__I can't believe…you could be so _**stupid**_…__how the hell did you NOT KNOW?! You're not an Alpha! You don't know how their bond works! He wasn't being coerced; he was accepting what was already in place! Oh, this is bad…this is so fucking very bad…"_

The doctor's words still rang hard against the walls, vibrating through the memory of the rooms, the hallways, and in the minds that those words had settled within and burned. Anyone who heard the outburst could never deny hearing it as it stood. It wasn't a parent scolding a child, nor an adult telling another adult off. Things like that could be dismissed and laughed off for what it was. This was a true bout of anger, a rage that shook the walls and had everyone standing still for the solid fifteen minutes that this went on. Of course this happened after the initial damage was done and there was yet another unnecessary body lying still as stone within a bed that surely wasn't meant for him this day.

Doctor Reed had stopped only when she looked upon him again. Her peers were around her, ready to cage her if she needed it. Her peers knew her well enough to rely on her to keep her head level even within the most hectic of situations, but even a saint amongst saints would have lost what little grace they could muster if they witness the severance of a bond between an Alpha and his chosen Omega. It didn't matter if they were human or not…it just didn't fucking matter. Anyone within that community felt when something like that occurred and it left everyone feeling as if they'd lost something precious.

She braced herself on the railing of the bedding. Surely…surely his Alpha…was…

"We're going to find him," she heard. "He can't be too far."

Maybe. It never took long anyhow…so if he was far enough someone would find him…or his body.

She twisted her hands on the railing and fought to keep her eyes off of that woman.

Granted…she didn't know what she'd been doing but still…

"Unforgivable…" The door opened and closed. The others moved out of the way of the body coming into the room and over to her. Not many would approach her now, but her mate was not many. She knew him well enough to know that he'd forced himself to finish his job before he'd come straight here. It was the type of person he was…and when she thought about their bond; she shuddered and let the weight of her mate's hand on the back of her neck ground her. "It's just not right…"

Not one bit of it was right. Not her standing at the side of the bed, not this person lying in the bed, and not the people surrounding the bed at a loss.

It happened quickly enough. Vegeta had crumpled to the ground as if he'd lost all form in his body; a listless and nearly lifeless heap that thought it would be better to stop breathing from the shock he just endured than to believe that he'd been let go. Doctor Reed had screamed at him to stay, frantically calling for a code blue as she began to start CPR. Krillin, unsure of what just happened, could only watch in a stunned horror he only snapped out of when he remembered that Bulma was still standing next to him.

Well, she had been standing. She was on the ground again, hands to her mouth and staring horridly at Vegeta's pale form being wrestled back into the realm of the living.

The noise and the sudden violent shift in the air had the others running out into the hallway to see what the fuss was about. Trunks only needed to see the beginnings of that familiar head of hair to know that something was desperately wrong and that he had to snatch his screaming sister back and away from the commotion. Bra forcibly lost all reasoning, punching her brother several times in the chest and nearly getting away once before she relented to the sudden weakness of her legs falling out from under her. She didn't understand and her fright was catching, the charged air making it hard for Trunks to keep from doing what he now prevented his sister from doing. He wanted to tell her that it would be fine, that whatever had gone on was temporary and that things would sort themselves out, but he didn't dare breathe life into that lie no more than he refused to believe that it had something to do with the missing Alpha no longer in his senses.

Pan had frantically looked for any sign of her grandfather. There was no sign of him anywhere. The longer she went without seeing him the more she felt her skin crawl. It was as if the world around her had suddenly slammed itself against her skull and sought to blind her. Everything was too bright and too loud. The white noise in the midst of the surrounding volume of movement was deafening.

Goten grabbed hold of her as she fought to breathe correctly. He stepped sideways letting Yamcha and Chi-chi out into the hallway to go charging down the corridor where doctors were rapidly working to get Vegeta onto a stretcher while stabilizing him. Everyone had felt it when it happened…the sense of complete grievance had sullied the harmonious bond that had settled over the months and left everyone searching for something that was slipping out of place faster than they could grab it. They couldn't have known then…they couldn't have known the reasons why this happened…

"Daddy…"

They certainly knew it now.

Bra laid her head on the bedding, one hand under her head and the other holding onto the cold hand that did nothing to let her know that he was still here. She squeezed, hoping against hope that he would just squeeze back, or better yet snarl in his sleep. He did neither. He just lied there…still as ever and so reminiscent of final slumber that she felt the beat of her heart still and start unevenly. She took a deep breath and tried to let it out without stuttering into a teetering sob that would last another twenty minutes.

It didn't work.

Trunks did his best to comfort her. He offered her no words but his presence, took no more than she gave outside of her pressing her head into his hand, and sank down when she threw herself in his arms without letting go of her father's hand. He felt a kind hand on his neck; a firm reminder of his presence of mind and that despite what he was witnessing it wasn't over yet. They were all too stubborn to let it end like this, and he didn't fight the squeeze of his neck telling him to hold on and fight. He went with it, breathing unsteadily but determined not to cry until he had a real reason to do so.

Yamcha removed his hand from the back of his student's neck. "You're okay. Just stay here. Goten—"

"You want me to stay with Gohan."

He shook his head and urged the Alpha's son to come with him. "No, Krillin's going to stay with Gohan." Goten didn't object. He was willing to do whatever was expected of him. As a third, it was his duty to follow the second in rank in situations like this, but he was a little concerned with the decision to leave Krillin with his brother right now. After all…he had played an unwitting part in the disappearance of his father.

It was news to the stunned human standing in the corner. He lifted his head and pointed at himself, not sure if he hadn't hit his head when Yamcha nodded and dared him to refuse. Krillin wasn't going to. He really didn't have a choice. It wasn't about the dynamics of what Yamcha was or what Krillin didn't understand. The answers lie in the bed, unresponsive and undeserving of what just transpired. As much as Krillin didn't understand about the unique bonds between Alphas and Omegas, he sure as shit knew that no one deserved to literally almost die from a broken heart.

A good bit of what went on was kept from him that much he knew, but he didn't know why…not until Vegeta's status was unveiled to him. The moment the word Omega hit his ears…

He avoided Goten's gaze and tried not to punch the wall in his own frustration.

Yamcha could see the concern and gripped Goten's shoulder. "It'll be all right," he assured. "Krillin's not going to do anything stupid."

"I think I've done enough stupid shit today, thanks," Krillin muttered.

"No one's going to disagree with you."

"…is this the part where you threaten to kill me or something?"

"No. I don't threaten to kill people…"

"Oh."

"I **promise**."

Krillin wisely kept his answer down to a small, "oh". Why Yamcha would even consider this—it wasn't his decision to make. Krillin accepted it as it was and slipped out of the room to march down the corridor and up to the labor and delivery floor where he knew his irate wife was waiting. He knew Pan and Chi-chi were in that room with Gohan, and he knew that he was literally the fat hitting the center of the fire that had long been burning. Someone—his wife or Chi-chi—was going to take the skin off of his back…

"Hurry up, Krillin…my son's waiting on you."

Krillin didn't bother to ask why she was down here now. Chi-chi walked briskly past him and left him to flee the incensed woman marching into the ICU. She never noticed that he didn't quite vanish right away. He waited until she was inside the room to ease his way back and listen in for vital information.

Chi-chi never stopped to ask Yamcha what he was planning. She didn't stop to ask the doctors what was going on or to see how Trunks and Bra were fairing. She didn't ask her son if he was all right and she didn't approach the bed to see what she knew already. Her focus was on the ignored woman in the room, looking up at the last possible second to see Chi-chi's hand fly and strike her across her cheek.

"For someone who is so brilliant, I can't believe you'd do this!" she spat. "How could you?! I told you this wasn't something that we understood and that we shouldn't mess with what WORKS!"

"Well it wasn't working for me, Chi-chi!" Bulma spat. "Just because my husband is an Omega—"

"Bulma, you're not an ALPHA. You don't understand how they work! You do not understand that bond and you CAN'T possibly believe that you could have taken care of Vegeta now that you understood a fraction of why he was the way he was!"

"….he had a right to choose. I just wanted him to…He needed to know that!"

"A **_stable_** omega has a right to choose," Doctor Reed heard her mate say. She looked up at him and was stunned to see that he had shifted into his beta form. He wasn't all human, though he was the last one to let anyone else see the "were" form of his persona if he could help it. Being part beast tended to make people think about those horrid movies that they watched and were highly misinformed on. She was sure Bulma was thinking that, the shock in her eyes betraying the impassive look on her face.

"Forgive my appearance, but my agitation is a bit…high," he apologized. He wasn't really expected her to say anything so he pressed on before she could do so. "My name is Dorian Reed…and I am what humans would call a werewolf…only without that shitty mythology to go behind it."

"Just…how is this **relevant** right now?"

"I'm also one of the world's top experts in the working dynamics of Alpha and Omega bonds…and what you did, ma'am, could have killed him…if his mate isn't dead already. Then we're just delaying the inevitable. Is…that relevance enough for you or did you want something else?"

Bulma let her face slip into her hands. "Shit…"

Dorian couldn't have said it better himself. He couldn't deal with her now. "Brother, you need to find his Alpha," he said turning toward Yamcha. Yamcha had already planned to go, but the urgency in Dorian's voice was telling. This was dire. This needed to find resolution **now**. "You need to bring him back here the moment you find him, no matter what state he's in."

"Is the alert out?" Yamcha asked.

"Yes. The local packs are aware of the situation and will sound if they can't find you."

Hopefully they wouldn't have to look far. Yamcha urged Goten to follow and left with the door shutting behind their hurried steps. They couldn't openly sense him, but he wasn't going to get far in his condition.

"Brother?" Chi-chi asked Dorian once they were gone. "Are you related? To Yamcha?"

Dorian shook his head. "Not in the way you believe." She seemed visibly disappointed at that, which was weird, though amusing. "We are brethren in the sense that we are of a like species from different families, but we do know of one another. He is a child of my kind, adopted into a local pack. His mate's doctor is one of us as well. Unfortunately Sharon's brother was called away to deal with an emergency with a new mom, otherwise he would have been here."

"Sharon?"

"Me," Doctor Reed said softly. "My name is Sharon."

Chi-chi had never seen anyone so torn up about someone they didn't know before. Whatever had occurred had really hit home for the female doctor. Chi-chi was curious to know more about just what happened in the short moments she'd been checking in on her son. It didn't seem like a long enough time for someone to just collapse and for someone to vanish, but she knew Goku well enough to know that he'd done something thinking it to be the greater good…but this time…

"You said something about stable omegas," she said to Dorian. "A stable omega can choose their Alpha, right? Vegeta could have chosen him, right?"

"Yes, but from what I've seen, he's far from stable…I'm not familiar with his species, but if Alphas and Omegas are similar to the ones within our community, then sometimes an Omega has to be coerced into a relationship with a suitable Alpha willing to take him on."

"You mean like Goku barging in and declaring that Vegeta was his." Bulma rubbed her temples and ignored the sting of her cheek. Chi-chi was tempted to give her a matching set but kept her hands to herself. "I'm sorry, but it just doesn't WORK that way. It can't!"

"It doesn't work that way to humans…yes, but he's not human." He may have looked human, but the nose didn't lie. Humans had a distinct smell to them as did anything that walked talked and breathed. This man smelt nothing of what a human would. His scent was thick with a fiery air, charged, and the sweet underlying scent beneath it all could only confirm what Dorian believed. "I stated before, a stable omega can and does usually choose their Alpha…but one who has been traumatized or subjected to training doesn't have the mental capacity to choose an Alpha and choose well. Alphas don't run by a dime a dozen," he said turning to face her fully. "There are few of them because of their territorial tendencies."

"Like when he practically camped out at my house after declaring his intent?"

He shrugged. "It works a little differently for some others. I don't know his customs, and I probably won't know until I see him and ask him…if he's alive."

He seemed so sure of it. Bulma wanted to vomit. "…damn it…"

"Alphas, no matter who or what they are, are born to be leaders, to protect, to lead their packs or groups or family in whatever situation that arises, whether it is feuding with another pack trying to take their territory or something as simple as a move. The Alpha is the one who makes the first and final decision and takes care of the welfare of their pack…but the burden is great…and the push to have a proper heir to the family line is designated for an Omega that is suitable for them."

"I know this already."

"Yeah? Well then, if you would have bothered to look deeper than the surface of whatever you've gleamed then you would know that an unstable Omega **can't** choose an Alpha."

"An unstable…What?"

"An unstable OMEGA. They exist…and we don't mess with what bonds they form for a reason."

It was certainly news to her ears. She hadn't seen anything like that in her research, he was sure of it. The internet was so full of shit on the subject that it was easy to get a page that only posted the basic knowledge and that was only obtained because people never stuck around for the whole agenda. Getting any type of official information required testing for one's own status and taking several classes and even then someone didn't know how it worked until they were connected in the community and could sense the hierarchy that separated everyone by their class. Alphas were far, few, feared, respected and could only be handled by Omegas. It went the same way in reverse. Betas were universal and considered versatile because they had the ability to choose who they wanted without repercussion. He remarked on this and she had the good grace to blush furiously for her mistake.

"An unstable Omega would rather die from their instability than to choose anyone who could and would dominate them and abuse that power, especially if they were trained to believe that they aren't worth anything unless they can please their Alpha and breed properly," he said. "Training tends to create an unstable mind."

Trained? She flashed back to several images and shuddered. "He wasn't—"

"You don't know that Bulma," Chi-chi said. Bulma began to argue but Chi-chi would hear none of it. "You **can't** know. You forget, he wasn't raised like us…he was raised to be a fighter, and a killer…and the only one who could possibly have some idea of what Vegeta has been through is the one who has literally BEEN in his head."

"Training, as horrible as it is, is universal….I checked! I never saw any marks…and even if he was, that doesn't explain why he collapsed like that!"

"That's because his Alpha severed their bond," Sharon said. Just saying it aloud had Sharon's hackles up again. Dorian clamped a hand on his wife's neck and willed her to calm back down. "He severed it, because he wanted his mate to choose him…but what he probably didn't realize was that severing that type of bond is the equivalent to taking a schizophrenic off of their meds…it's never pretty."

The one question that weighed heavy on their minds was asked by the one person whom they believed to be the last to ever ask it. "What's going to happen to him?" Bra wiped her face of her tears, though more came and tried to drown her red cheeks a little more. "What's going to happen to my father if Goku doesn't fix the bond?"

"Well, breaking a bond like he did…there's no telling what damage was done…if it weren't the type of bond that existed between true mates then I wouldn't be as worried."

"True mates? My dad and…they were…true mates?"

"It's the only explanation I have for why he just about died when his Alpha broke that bond," Dorian explained. "An Alpha and an Omega can have two general types of bonds. A majority of them are temperamental, or lacking in completion so that if the bond needs to be broken there won't be much damage to either party. Usually an Omega's cycle resets itself and an Alpha is unusually aggressive for a time, but that settles itself out. But if that bond becomes a complete bond, where both parties aware or unaware of their feelings feel that there is no need to search for anyone more suitable, then the bond settles and connects them mind and soul." Those types were quite rare to find. The only case that was documented was several years ago and even then finding that out was an accident because of an unfortunate incident with the Alpha. His mom was completely distraught…"Only an Alpha has the power to break that bond…and he never breaks it unless he feels inadequate…"

"What aren't you saying?" asked Trunks, holding his sister closer. "Just what's going to happen if we don't find him?"

"Well…if he wakes up…and his mate is dead…he's going to lose his mind…"

"What?!"

"Before he kills himself."

Bulma clasped her hands over her mouth. "Oh god…"

"Worse-case scenario is that he goes on a destructive rampage before it sinks in…" Sharon sighed. "All we can do is hope Yamcha brings that Alpha back before anything happens…and even then…"

There was no sure solution. A variable like this being ripped from the hands of those whom had to for far too short of a time was devastating all around. The effects were rippling, and the end results were never worth the disruption in the first place. Sharon rubbed her head tiredly and went with the tug that pulled her into a tight embrace. She never liked being saddled with cases like this…they never turned out well.

Chi-chi swallowed her own tears. There was nothing she could do and crying wasn't going to help find Goku. She started to leave but doubled back to snatch Bulma by her wrist and yank her along. "You and I need to have a discussion about certain things," she hissed when Bulma resisted. The blue haired woman faltered when she felt the weight of her children's gazes on her. "You really need to come with me before I make you."

She would. Bulma still had the memories of that couch being snapped with her on it. She relented and let herself be pulled out of the room, away from the very people she'd been trying to reclaim. This wasn't what she wanted. She'd only wanted…

"I only wanted to give him a choice," she cried softly. "He's had so little of it…I didn't…"

Chi-chi wished she was of the biased mind not to give a flying fuck about anything Bulma had to say, but she understood what the woman had been trying to do. It was a redeeming quality and made sense to anyone who had been in her position, but her execution had little to be desired. She'd all but shoved Goku into proving something that he didn't need to prove, forced him to shatter a bond he thought could be reset the moment Vegeta claimed him back…but no one, least of all Bulma, expected THIS type of an outcome.

The urge to vomit was greater than ever. "I just wanted my family back…"

"You never lost them Bulma…at least you haven't yet." The truth still stung no matter how much one tried to soften the blow. Tears came anew to the blue eyes trying to process some way to emerge from this nightmare come to life. The shock and anger—things that had never really left her—were fading and making way for the unfiltered unhinged fright of what was to be if things could not be fixed. It paralyzed her and she sank in a heap against the wall wishing it would just STOP.

Chi-chi knelt down beside her. It took a couple of tries, but she managed to get Bulma up and moving again. Now wasn't the time for panic attacks, and there was no use in giving into the unfathomable dread of one's mistakes costing more than the imagined price at the time of conception. Mistakes happened all the time.

It was fixing them that mattered.

She certainly was going to remind a certain saiyan of that…if he wasn't gone.

* * *

When he stepped down from the weightlessness of the skies and onto the physical world again, there was only a red fog waiting to greet his mind. There were people within it, though they paid little heed to the one that stood still, entranced by their fearlessness and unaware of the pressure steadily building to intolerable levels within his head. The red fog mockingly laughed at his pain, shoving him hard into something solid, unmoving…

He dug his fingers into the stone he leaned on and slammed the side of his head into it.

A scream rose high into the air.

The red abated for a moment. The colors were slow to come back but he could see the greenery of the world filtering into his sight in patches, the soft sway of them doing nothing to kill the pressure in his chest. The stone he'd slammed his head into lie in rubble around him, unidentifiable but no longer a means to keep his wits. The pain was distracting; if he could feel it he could keep himself aware just a little longer…

The red fog mockingly laughed and locked him in a continuous cycle of pain.

The strange thing about clarity when it came was how it felt as if nothing had occurred. The pain in his head was proof that it wasn't true; that something had indeed gone on long enough for him to require a means to snap his mind back and leave him lying on what he hoped was grass. It was hard to tell now…

He couldn't smell anything but blood.

Blood that was his.

He could barely lift his arms. He didn't even feel when he had, but he could see the viscous liquid of life steadily dripping from the tips of his fingers. The sun haloed his hand ominously. He could hear the wind as it shifted through the trees, gentle against his fur and telling of the coming rain in the distance. His hand fell away. He kept his eyes on the skies, gray bleeding into the miraculous blue. There wasn't a cloud to be seen.

He smiled bitterly.

Why it all reminded him of that day was a mystery.

No one told him that dying tended to reset things within the flesh of the living. Instincts, hidden powers…that large lump he'd gotten on his head had driven the primal part of him down to slumber. It was wide awake now, quickly catching up on the years it had been dormant and readily reminding Goku that he was not human. No one told him that what he thought to be a strange habit of sniffing Vegeta out over the years was actually ingrained within him to do so…and no one prepared him for the sudden awareness of the world when he woke into the living again, wished back and more aware of the world and himself than he had been the first time around. Even Goku was a little appalled at how radically his thought process had changed…and the moment he laid his eyes on the prince, the word "mate" came flying out of the sidelines to slam everything he knew into the floor and leave him raw and wanting.

The first time he'd felt something was off was the day that he'd met Vegeta on the battlefield. He would have thought that the feeling would have come at the sight of Radditz appearing, but nothing really clicked until he saw Vegeta in person, the haughty battle driven prince that had an agenda to kill or be killed. He hadn't a clue about his heritage or this claim that he was a saiyan, but he could feel the truth seeping into him with every punch exchanged for another and every time the prince was just a tad too close to killing him. He still had to save the world, yes, but he couldn't deny that all he really wanted to do was pin Vegeta down and bite him…which was weird then. Not so much now, but at the time he didn't understand why.

Maybe it had been dumb luck or perhaps the stupidest decision he could have made, but that day the Prince fell to his knees in defeat, Goku wanted nothing more than to let that asshole live. Vegeta's declaration to kill him one day, to defeat him and make him bow to the prince was a promise; a promise that they would meet again and again until they settled this score that bound them to one another as warriors and as the last of their race. Goku thought it would be left at that…that he could find a rival worthy of his time and effort and perhaps even have a friend that he could readily hurt without hurting him (if that made sense to anyone). He wanted to meet him again…he wanted to see him again.

He got his chance. Namek was a real eye opener. People like Frieza existing was bad enough…but for that freak to kill is mate and to kill his best friend as well? He still hadn't wrapped his mind around that word, "mate", but it was important enough to take heed of Vegeta's pleas. Krillin dying was just the icing on his rage cake. Goku had felt the doors of power opening before, but it was nothing compared to the powerful rage that ripped the door off of its hinges and had him salivating for the blood of that freak to run through his hands when he ripped his heart out of his chest. He fought Frieza with all he had and more, and while he wished he could have just gone back home after it was over, Goku felt destiny put him on another planet for an unknown reason. It was time he took to train and learn something new…and time to learn more about whom he was and why he couldn't keep Vegeta out of his mind.

To say that he was a little…**perturbed**…when he got back from space was an understatement. In his time away, a lot had changed, and his chance to claim Vegeta went up in smoke when he saw that purple haired child in Bulma's arms. The question of if they were together was answered at Vegeta's indifference on the matter, but Goku couldn't blame anyone lse but himself and the time that had been allowed to pass. The human piece of him remembered the pain that came from realizing there was no way to claim Vegeta then. It also remembered that he couldn't upset the dynamics of life as it was for his family and friends. They were human. They wouldn't understand. As it stood, none of it was meant to be.

He died ten days later…and had seven years to learn.

How he'd grown to admire…to love him like this…

Goku wanted to shove his hands into his eyes and stop breathing. He'd come back for a day…a day…and within that one day he'd fought the one he couldn't stop thinking about and became one with him…twice. His mate had died trying to do the right thing in the end, and again they were separated when the dust settled. In the middle of all that, fusion was a handy little technique that no one told him the after effects of. He found that out the hard way, and seeing what was in Vegeta's head…

After that whole fucking debacle with black star dragons and Bebi and the whole earth being blown to bits, he had decided to wait. Waiting didn't include riding on the back of that Dragon for a hundred years and never seeing his mate again. There was no way in hell. He'd had enough of it all.

He had waited until the kids were mostly grown and they were all old enough to move from one phase to the next, and by that time he'd learned to keep the Alpha in him under control. He always believed himself to be a simple man, and the mask he put up was well worn and nearly flawless when it came to everyone he knew. It was so easy…so, so easy that it was laughable…until he saw what was his displayed for the whole world to admire…

To abuse.

To undermine and laugh at because the Prince had learned to let them…thinking that his superiority made him immune to the taunts behind his back and that he could do as he pleased because they didn't want to deal with him as he was.

His mate was much **more**…so much more than what people thought of him…and he wanted to keep his precious prize from the hands of everyone that couldn't see the truth sitting under those walls he'd built to keep everyone out of his heart. He wouldn't stand another moment to see his love demean himself like that. He couldn't let it happen. He was tired of being nice; the guy who did for others and never took what was his.

He had warned others beforehand about his intentions. As much as he was simple, he was quite blunt when pushed. After the warnings were dished out and his general pack had been established, he'd finally snatched Vegeta for himself. He'd finally taken those steps he'd been tentative to take before and embraced his saiyan side, relieving the physical pain of suppressing himself. It was glorious; the power at his fingertips was nothing compared to burying himself into the silent love of his life and being **accepted**. That was the beauty of it. Vegeta didn't try to **_change_** him. Oh he fought him and that was expected, but Goku understood the reasons why. He'd been inside that head, and amazingly enough Vegeta hadn't even begun to skim the surface of Goku's mind as easily as Goku had gotten into his.

Perhaps if Vegeta had taken the time to look deeper, some of the fighting could have been avoided. He might have gotten a better sense of Goku's intentions, yet that wouldn't have erased his preconceived notions of Alphas and what he believed would happen. A lot of that could be blamed on Vegeta's past, as past that Goku took his time breaking apart just to harness the real person beneath what they'd helped make him. He had to shove Vegeta to accept his own side, to understand that it wasn't something he could just ignore, and he'd only begun to taste the truth of honest unabashed love with no conditions when Vegeta finally embraced him on his own.

Three months wasn't enough. It just **wasn't**.

Yet…had he gone about it the wrong way after all? Had he really coerced him into this?

Had Vegeta simply placated him in his fear of what Goku would do?

The Alpha within him snarled that it was ridiculous…and yet the human part questioned…wondered…and doubted enough to pay no heed to the saiyan piece of him.

The gentle stutter of his heart was perhaps the only thing he could feel right now. He was sure that winds were blowing; that the earth was trembling under the many footsteps that ran over it to find safety, and that the sun was brighter than ever in what he knew to be blue skies. They gray fading out the colors around him would never change that.

It would never change how he'd felt for decades.

"I just…wanted him to choose…" he whispered tiredly. "To…choose **me**…"

"He did choose you, idiot…"

He laughed bitterly at the voice near him. He'd never heard the voices before he'd died. It was something new. Entertaining even. "…I forced him to choose me…he would have never come to me on his own…" He groaned as pressure pushed down on his chest and didn't resist the hands that were forcing him to look away from the sun. "I'm no better…than any other Alpha…"

"Goku…that is the stupidest piece of shit I've heard come out of your mouth and I've heard some wild shit come out of that orifice over the years. Vegeta needs you as much as you need him…especially since he's…"

"….Vegeta?"

"You severed your bond…and now you're dying and he's dying with you…are you going to make him suffer all over again?! Think you imbecile, if you die he's going to lose his mind and kill himself! Why, because you're not here! Do you really think that he's going to forgive you once you meet in the otherworld!? Don't make him **hate** you…"

Those words took him back to the beginning of all this…to when Vegeta had tentatively accepted him and chose to follow this path Goku had set for them. He'd been in the bath, wary, broken, and determined not to be swayed if Goku could not promise him one thing.

_I'd rather die right here and now…than to sit here and hope for something that won't last because you feel the need to die for the lot of us…don't tempt me with false promises…don't make me hate you honestly._

The scent of blood this heavy only saw fit to send him back into his memories. Each time was a little different than the last, though the end was the same. This time, however, chose to seal the light off from the edge of his sight. The path he'd been prepared to walk vanished and left him gasping for what air he could gather in his constricted chest, the pain blossoming all over again when he forced himself to sit up.

The voice next to him decided that now would be a good time to show its face. He thought it would be someone from his brood, but he was violently rocked back into reality when he saw that it was Krillin kneeling next to him and now leaning over him and trying to keep him awake. The smaller man smiled bitterly, hand clamped against the wound on Goku's chest right where his heart lie. The blood still ran in rivulets over and through the crease of his fingers, staining the grass beneath them and a good portion of Krillin's clothing.

Goku couldn't bring himself to ask why Krillin was here. The smaller human wouldn't let him yet, urging him up to his feet with some added help seconds later. He stumbled, caught by Yamcha immediately and steadied by Goten's hands on his back. He fought the tilting shift of his sight and balance. It was hard, but eventually he managed to stand on shaking legs that only took him back to facing Krillin.

If he wasn't going to die…

"…why?"

"Because I'm a son of a bitch that doesn't listen when people tell me to do things that will get me killed." Krillin paused long enough to stare at Yamcha smirking sideways at him. Sending him up to Gohan's room was a waiting death wish. If Krillin was going to die, he was going to die with all the facts and not because his wife chose to skin him today. He'd smack Yamcha later for all this. "And…just because I don't…understand why you did something doesn't mean I can let someone die because I don't understand. I mean, don't get me wrong I still want to punch you in your face…but I'll save it for later, yeah?"

Later? There was no later. Not now. "…He…told me…not to…die….not to leave him…" Goku bitterly looked away and fought the insane laughter bubbling in his chest. "I suppose…taking him with me…was selfish…right? Should I let him…choose that too or should I just…do everyone…a favor…and just…"

"Don't be an idiot!" Krillin spat. "Dying doesn't do shit for anyone but make them grieve!"

"We can discuss this later," Yamcha soothed. "Right now, we're going back to the hospital…Goten, help me lift him up."

Goku closed his eyes in pain. "I…don't…think…"

"Dad, just…shut up and hold on."

He didn't have much choice on shutting up. The darkness was calling him and he paid heed, falling into what he thought to be a final oblivion with everyone screaming after him.

* * *

Omg, is HE GOING TO DIE!?

AND WHAT ABOUT THOSE DOCTORS?!

And what the f**k is training?!

And what are you going to do with BULMA?!

I'm sorry...the number you have dialed is not available. Leave a review and we will LET YOU KNOW EVENTUALLY. (No, like soon. I'm churning butter.)


	18. This as it is, should it be

**AN:**

So...how about that last chapter?

Oh yeah, Happy Valentine's Day, or as I like to call it, Happy "reason for hating the human race for celebrating a day that makes half of us regret the amount of chocolate we eat to stop feeling the sadness of being lonely and the other half wonder why we spend so much money fora stupid day that should be everyday without the fanfare and red shit everywhere" DAY!

I know. It's a work in progress.

**OKAY, PAY ATTENTION HERE PLEASE!**

I would like to thank **Nancy103** for her AH-MAZ-ING reviews. She's not afraid to tell me what she likes and what she doesn't like and reading them ALWAYS, ALWAYS, makes my day.

Honestly, I don't tell you guys this enough, but I always love reading your reviews. I don't count myself as the best writer, or praise myself for my work, but I work hard to entertain you and not throw shit at you because you don't deserve that. You deserve good stories and I will always try my best to deliver what I hope is to your liking.

Even if you threaten me. ;)

Anywaaaaay, Here's the next chapter. :) Love you guys!

* * *

**Chapter 18:** This as it is, should it be.

Stepping out into the light of day felt like a slap to the face. The brightness was telling of a joyous day, of one where there was to be no bad within the lives of those who walked in the sun. The clouds on the horizon felt more prominent as to how Yamcha felt, reveling in the birth of his son and daughter, but anxious and frightened for their grandfather. He hadn't wanted to leave his mate. While Gohan could and did take care of himself, he was vulnerable in Yamcha's mind and he didn't care if there was a viable threat or not. Gohan was his mate…the one who needed his protection right now more than ever and his reassurance that their children were indeed here and not figments of their imagination.

Or maybe it was him who needed to know that.

He felt his heart seize in his chest.

Why…why did that fucking memory always pop up when he…

No person was without a past, and his was something he tried hard to keep out of his head. The urge to reach into his wallet was strong, though the image he sought was worn and faded. He hated thinking about certain pieces of it that bled into the here and now…It always lingered about **_her_**…about what was stolen from him without his consent. She was only…

He'd gripped the bedding to get a hold of himself. Gohan would never…**never**…do such a thing to him.

He would be lying if he didn't wonder about it once or twice. A fleeting thought it may have been, but it was a fear based thought that kept him more determined to keep his family this time.

Gohan knew what he was thinking and said nothing of it. He kissed him soundly and forced Yamcha to focus on RIGHT NOW. There was no time to dawdle and dwell on the "what if's". The news of what happened in the hallway had reached his mate's ears through a nurse and he'd been worriedly waiting for Yamcha to return to confirm what he'd been told. Yamcha was annoyed that his mate had found out in such a manner and more so when he couldn't say it wasn't true. The babies at this point were resting soundly in their shared bassinet. Pan was next to them, still in awe over her siblings but worried as well. Everything in him was screaming for him to stay and protect his family.

Part of his family was lost…and he couldn't ignore that any more than he could leave.

Gohan quickly took the decision out of his hand. Yamcha hadn't bothered to discern the logistics of this thinking; as it stood he was headed outside and going against the grain of his instincts at the insistence of his mate. Gohan had pointed at the door and told him without words to protect this family the only way he could. He had to bring back their Alpha. Their children couldn't grow up not knowing their grandfather. Their family wasn't their family without Goku sitting amongst them. Not only would they have lost an important member of their family yet again, but Vegeta would die…he would destroy himself and everything around him. Gohan refused to let that happen. He would not accept this fate if it could be avoided. He made Yamcha swear on their bond to find his father and to not come back until Goku was safe and sound amongst their ranks again.

Yamcha didn't know about the sound part of it. He didn't have the heart to tell Gohan this as he left. The bond that Goku and Vegeta shared was rare…and bonds that were broken in such a fashion tended to make sane people a little **_less_** sane. It also tended to ruin one mate or the other for anyone looking to claim them in their moment of weakness. It was the head of a lot of controversy within their world and why certain bonds like theirs had evolved to keep it from happening. They weren't human, however, and their bond was much different than from what Yamcha had seen in his years on earth. It had nearly killed Vegeta. He was sure that Goku hadn't gone unscathed either.

He wasn't expecting to find Goku a bleeding mess in the middle of a local park hours later. He'd been searching for his signature, but the Alpha's ki was so low that it blended perfectly amongst the normal. Once or twice they thought they had him, but it turned out each time to be a spot he'd been in briefly. He'd heard the howl seconds before he'd moved on to search another spot. Someone within the network had located him…

Yamcha was never more relieved to see that he wasn't **dead**.

It was kind of hard not to spot a furry man stumbling from the loss of blood and harder still to ignore the way he'd smashed his head into a statue of the retired idol Mr. Satan. He basically destroyed it with that thick skull and held no regrets about it. Krillin was there already, something that Yamcha thought to be a sign of favor from the heavens when the smaller man ripped off his outer shirt and pressed it to the open wound on Goku's chest. Goku was lying there, prepared to go to the other side…

_"Don't be an idiot!"_

No one was accepting of it.

They rushed him back to the hospital on their own power. Yamcha howled to the open network of wolves within the city to send word to Sharon that they were coming. Waiting for an ambulance was asking Goku to slip further from their fingers. The wound on his head was of no comparison to the one on his chest; that wound's origins a mystery. Krillin held his hand tightly to that wound until they were at the entrance to the ER where staff was awaiting their arrival. Sharon was at the helm of the operation; her mate busily barking orders to the staff right alongside her as they rushed him into the ICU were Vegeta was.

"So…can I assume that this is one of the reasons you didn't tell anyone about this?" Krillin questioned quietly as he walked off in the direction of water. The sight of blood, copious amounts of it no less, still did a number on his stomach. "The disaster that this shit fest has become?"

"It's…one of the reasons," Yamcha admitted. As little as Krillin knew, Yamcha wasn't feeling the urge to share everything with him just yet. He stripped himself of his own shirt, sniffing in disdain at the bloodstain on the back of it. "The other reason is that I like my privacy…and I think we broke your brain enough already at the picnic, yeah?"

"Understatement of the century." The book should have been a clue. A HUGE clue. Even with that clue shoved in his face it was still mind boggling to realize that Yamcha had finally become a father…in a weird way but a father nonetheless. He spied the clock on the wall and forgot about congratulating him. "Man, I'm so dead!"

Goten felt the pieces slide in place. "You…never went upstairs, did you."

"Of course not!" Krillin cried. "I'm already in enough trouble…and what the hell was I going to do anyway but stand there looking like an awkward jackass that nearly killed his best friend!? What sense does that make anyhow!? None I tell you! Shit…"

"Hey, you didn't—"

"The hell I didn't…and fuck it all, I'm still pissed he didn't tell me…but I'm more pissed that—damn it all…"

Krillin burst into the closest men's room and headed for the sink. He jerked the handles to run as hot as they could and shoved his hands in the middle of the stream to rinse the blood from his arms. As the water ran and rinsed away the dark stains from his skin, he failed to make sense of why it was there to stain his arms in the first place. He hadn't been shot. He hadn't been maimed. Goku was still in his forth form and there was nothing around them that even looked like it could take him on. How? How had he gotten that wound on his chest?

"Why was he so ready…to die…"

A man of pure faith would surely be tested by the events today. He kept his eyes on the water, the warmth of a familiar hand stealing away his sight moment later to hide the sudden sting in his eyes. He went with the slight tug, forcing himself to breathe as Yamcha comforted him as best he could.

They had to believe that he'd be okay, even if he wasn't. He'd been around too long to let Goku die from something like this and to let that idiot believe for a second that he wasn't worthy enough to lay claim to a man he'd been plagued with since the day they met. Yamcha would surely smack some sense into that idiot, and then he'd make sure he was alive long enough for him to smack him every year on this day for being so fucking stupid.

Their task complete, all they could do now was to clean themselves up and wait.

* * *

_Those moments before he woke to the world around him were always filled with a sense of calm. The darkness would be slow to lift, allowing him to take into account his surroundings and if it was worth the trouble of getting up. Usually he was a morning person, up with the sun and marching to the beat of the day accompanied with the customary scratch to his rear as he got up. Today, however…today he buried himself deeper into the covers, willing the sun to go away and find him tomorrow when sleep wasn't the primary agenda._

_He felt the edges of sleep coming again when he was rudely shaken by insistent hands. "Wake up…"_

_He knew that voice. He groaned at it and wondered why he ever decided to introduce early wake up times to his life. "Nngh…noooo…" he moaned pathetically into the pillow he clung to. "I don't want to and you can't make me…"_

_"Wake your lazy ass up!"_

_He slid his head further under the pillow to get away from the unrelenting pestering of his shoulders. The hands on him only rocked harder, the mirth bubbling from the body they were connected to tumbling into the air with stilted giggles. "No. No I refuse to move!" He grabbed the pillow over his head and twisted to the left. The unoccupied space on the bed was now occupied with his body face down and his unwillingness to move for anything other than—yeah no, he wasn't moving, not even for food._

_His declaration was met with the quick snatch of his pillow and the bright chipper sun smacking him in the face with its deliriously happy sickening self. "No, no…turn the sun off," he moaned. "Please, I just want to sleep for ten more hours…I thought you liked me~!"_

_"If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be waking you up to get breakfast before everyone devours it, moron."_

_"I'm not a moron…and I can make—no, scratch that, I don't wanna moooooove…"_

_He turned over; arms splayed on either side of him until he remembered the sun and threw his right arm over his face. He peered from beneath it expecting the usual quips for him to get his sorry ass up before he was beaten into submission…which would never really happen but the threats were a part of the morning routine that made him linger in the bed for spite's sake. His mate didn't disappoint with calling him a lazy ass but the effect was totally ruined when his mate crawled over the bedding to sink down next to him._

_He grinned, rolling himself over to fully wrap his arms around the solid body willingly leaning into him. There were no words to describe the elation of mornings like this; to know that he had his mate in his arms and that he was accepted; that the sun could warm them as one and see no fault in the bodies that lay beneath it lazily within the bed that they'd somehow made their own. He'd spent one too many lonely nights in it for him to ever sleep in it again without the one who was always in his mind; the cold of those nights leading into false mornings of hope a blurred dream he hoped to never have in his head again. _

_He dropped his nose against the sweet smell of his mate's freshly washed hair, enamored by it and the soft kiss lain upon his chin. "All I want to do…is lie here with you forever," he whispered. "If I can have that..."_

_"You'd give up food for me?"_

_He'd give up more. So much more. "You have no idea…"_

_His mate smiled; a rare small smile that could rob him of his very life to look upon it once too often. It never ceased to still his heart and yank hard, forcing him into a cuddling mass of muscle that held that laughing body close and treasured every sound that came from it. He leaned into the gentle kiss lain upon his lips and fell back to see the star that had taken hold of his sight brighter than the sun that tried in vain to outshine him._

_"I love you, Vegeta…so very much…."_

_"Kakorrot…"_

_"Don't ever leave me…even if…"_

_Vegeta hushed him with another kiss. The answer was breathed into him and left to linger on the edge of his lips tingling from the soft parting that left their heads connected. He closed his eyes and drifted back into the warmth of the bedding, leaning into the soft caress of fingers carding through his unruly hair. _

_"You do need to get up soon," he heard him say, "Before the others get worried."_

_"I'll get up soon," he murmured. The darkness was seeping back into his bones and he could no longer resist the lull of another bout of sleep. "Just not now…"_

_"Okay…"_

_"Stay…with me…?"_

_"Sure." Vegeta cradled his head in his arms and let him slip back down into rest. "Just a bit longer..."_

* * *

She never readily listened in on the network if it didn't concern her. She never had a reason to, although much of that had to do with her mother telling her to keep her ears out of the winds and focused on her studies. Fat lot of good that did anyone, especially here standing outside of this hospital going on nothing more than a muttered name uttered more than once in a drunken stupor on her mother's part. She hated seeing her mother past the point of inebriated and stumbling to find purchase on whatever she could hold onto, but sometimes that was the only way her mother could be honest about anything.

It was a fucking shame that a bottle of vodka had pried out of her mother what she'd been dying to know for as long as she could remember.

Her bag in hand and her feet glued to the ground in hesitation, she thought about what she would say. Well what could she say? It wasn't like she was going in there to introduce herself and expect him to say…well, if it were her, she definitely would have given herself the once over and dismissed it. She wasn't the looker by any means—the scar on her right cheek from her more adventurous days before her mother thought it was best to lock her up in the apartment—and she didn't wear anything fancy or telling of wealth. She looked…scraggly…if she was being kind to herself, but she didn't know what she was supposed to look like in a situation like this.

Hell, she wasn't sure she'd make it here in the first place.

The network had put out the word to keep a look out for an alpha that had seemingly lost his mind and to get word back to a guy named Yamcha if he was spotted. She hadn't seen anyone fitting that description, but she knew that they'd come back here. The smell of blood was strong, though not strong enough to erase the scent of the desert winds clear as day within the pungent scent of the city. Her mother—in moments of lucidity—had often said that one's birth place was always reflected in the scent one carried.

She'd seen the balled up baseball shirt in the bottom of her mother's things and slept on it often enough to know that scent anywhere.

The doors opened and she had the good sense to move out of the way of a woman on a mission. She barely managed to keep her wits about her she all but dragged some sobbing blue haired woman out of the building and marched in the direction of places unknown. Her muttering was dark and full of promise, and a couple of words that she blinked at and cursed her hearing for. The Blue haired woman seemed to wrapped up in her crying to really pay attention to the woman dragging her wherever, though she couldn't help but wonder just why she was crying. Had someone died? Was it that Alpha everyone was talking about?

She turned back to the building in time to catch that scent again, but this time it was heavier. She could practically see him by smell.

She held her bag tighter.

There was nothing left to do now but go in…and the thought terrified her as she marched into the doors.

* * *

The sound of monitors steadily beeping never soothed a soul. It only proved to remind anyone hearing it that a life was being monitored to see if it would cling a little longer or alert them when that life decided enough was enough. An alarm bell for death and the ticking clock of patience being tested, they steadily ignored the monitors and focused on the two people lying together on a single bed designed for one.

The team had wheeled Goku into the room with Vegeta when they'd managed to stabilize him. It was touch and go from the start and his unconscious state was not promising in the ways of positive outcomes. He woke twice, long enough to stare at them and fall back into whatever darkness surrounded his mind, clearly unimpressed with life to bother to hold onto consciousness. The blood loss only added to the melee or problems. He'd lost a considerable amount and how he was still alive was a medical mystery they didn't question. The wound on his head was nothing to sneeze at, but the wound on his chest was questionable, large, and deeper than what they perceived upon further inspection. The cause of it was unknown but thought to be related to the severance of his bond.

Closing it proved to be quite the task. It required a minor surgical touch that left a large line of stitches sure to be a scar when it had healed over. They could care less about it. They were more elated that he was still alive and that there was a small chance to save them, though that depended on when or if he chose to wake up.

The moment he was in the room with Vegeta, the smaller saiyan's heart monitor went through the roof. Protocol stated that they remove the cause though that proved to be more detrimental than anything. Goku wasn't even out of the room a second when Vegeta's monitors were crashing and the wound on Goku's chest began to bleed through all over again. The medical team didn't know what to do until Sharon quickly instructed them to place them on the same bed.

It took some maneuvering but they managed to place Vegeta comfortably next to Goku. Goku was suddenly heavier than he looked and no one wanted to wrestle that mass of muscle anywhere in case he decided now would be a good time to wake up. Vegeta's vitals were still high when they slid him into the slightly bigger bed. He looked as if he'd wake at this rate, which the medical team hoped for and dreaded in the same breath. Unfortunately, Vegeta didn't wake, but his vitals did stabilize themselves with no help on their part. The wound on Goku's chest stopped the excess blood overflow as well. A well placed towel cleaned up some of the mess.

It would have been fine if the smaller of them turned as if he weren't comatose and buried his nose into the red fur next to him. He inhaled deeply, relaxed, and dropped back down as if he were only taking a light nap.

Sharon didn't know what to make of it. "Dorian…what…what was that?"

"I don't know," he said in slight awe. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't imagining things and witnessed Goku's tail snaking around the arm that tightened around his waist. "I…I've never seen that before. Bonds that are broken usually take days to repair, weeks in some cases…and even then the Omega usually doesn't go near their Alpha…but…"

"But?"

"They're not…like us…I wonder if that bond…even broke?"

There was no way to tell. The hard part was upon them now and that was waiting…which Sharon was bad at. "I'm going to make a few phone calls," she said rolling up her sleeves, "Particularly one to my brother. I'd think he'd like to know those babies are here. He had a bet going about how cute they would be."

"Oh? Are you sure you're not about to make a detour to talk to a certain blue haired woman?"

Sharon grinned lightly and kissed her mate in parting. "You know me well enough."

"I do. What about those two?"

Sharon let her gaze drift to the chairs that were being occupied by two bodies that hadn't stirred at all. The ones called Trunks and Bra were out cold where they were, exhausted from the day's events and the worry evident in their faces even in slumber. She grabbed a blanket from nearby and handed it to Dorian. "Make sure they don't die from the AC in this place," she said as she left. "You know they only blast it to keep people in these beds!"

"The hospital executives love it when you talk bad about their building!" he called after her teasingly. He did cover them with the blanket and laughed quietly when they buried themselves deeper under it. His mate was right about the AC. It was enough to make polar bears complain. There wasn't anywhere to go or pressing matters to tend to at the moment, so he settled himself down in a chair and grabbed a magazine.

The door opened again. "Forget something?" he said without looking up.

"…um…I don't…think so?"

That was not his mate. She would have walked in here grabbed what she forgot. It was a face he hadn't seen before; a young woman that didn't smell like anyone that had been in or out of here recently. Not at first. "Can I help you?" he asked when she showed no signs of leaving. "Are you lost?"

"N-no…I don't think so," she replied softly. She stepped further into the room, holding what looked like luggage in her small hands. She immediately stiffened at the scent of the unconscious Alpha in the room. Her reaction indicated that she wasn't all human. Only someone who was trained on scent or was familiar with the community of pack hierarchy would hesitate like she did when she noticed just who was in the room with her.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Dorian inquired. "Are you from a local pack?"

"Yes…well, not exactly. I mean…I heard the alert and I came, but I've been looking—and anyway, I was looking for someone named…Yamcha." She fidgeted a bit, toying with the strap of the bag she held. "I…have something important to talk to him about."

* * *

_"Daddy!" Small hands that were slightly damp and oddly sticky tapped his face gently to get his attention. He grunted and blew into them when they tapped against his mouth next. He didn't open his eyes at the ecstatic giggling from her small frame. "Daddy!"_

_"Daddy is sleeping," he muttered. "Daddy likes sleeping."_

_Another set of hands shook his shoulder this time, but they were about as small as the first set that had tapped his face before. "Papa…papa wake up…" He wrinkled his nose and feigned snoring. His son did a good job at stifling his giggles. He was too much like his mother. "Papa…you have to get up!"_

_He shook his head and kept his eyes shut. "Daddy's nap isn't over."_

_As usual they were at a loss as to why he wanted to sleep. Naptime was an abomination to their little minds at the tender ages of two and four. Their big sister, of course, didn't see the merit in naps either, or letting him finish his as she stalked up to him to stand over his head with her hands on her hips. "DAD! If you don't get up, mom is going to let us eat your dessert!" she declared. "And mom made CAKE!"_

_"…the good stuff?"_

_"Of course…mom's stuff is always the bestest, and it's the chocolate one we like!"_

_The threat of his dessert being devoured never failed to rouse him from his slumber. He woke with a well-practiced snort, one that never failed to send them into a giggle fit of small bodies trying to smother him. He sat up and yawned, arms open wide and prepared to snatch the first body closest to him down into his embrace to be readily smothered by his overbearing affection. His eldest giggled hysterically and hugged him as her siblings clamored to try and dog pile him._

_"Why is my baby girl disturbing my nap time?" he whined playfully. "I'm old! I deserve to bask in the sun!"_

_"I'm not a baby, Dad," she groused as she dug her fingers into his sides. He squirmed and tickled her back, laughing when she couldn't keep her face straight. "I'm almost six!"_

_"Still a baby…an adorable lovely child who isn't going to eat my dessert!"_

_"Momma said I could if you don't move."_

_"Momma is sadly mistaken."_

_"Oh, am I?" _

_That tone of voice never boded well for him. He barely had time to look up before he was being assaulted by a hose and water that was just too cold to be normal! He yelped and rolled out of the way, his children screaming in laughter and playfully running away from the hose that chased them afterwards. It was the final play of the evening, a signal for them to run for the house where dinner was waiting to be devoured._

_His mate assaulted his face with a towel and a well-placed kiss on his cheek when he yanked him down. "You sleep too damn much," he muttered playfully. "You really need to get up, Kakorrot."_

_"But I like sleep, Vegeta!" he whined. "I get so little of it these days…and you know why!" he said throwing his hand over in the direction of where their children had vanished. "How do they all have nightmares at the same time?!" He ignored Vegeta's outright laughter as he rubbed the one side of his face that wasn't somewhat bruised. "They sleep terribly! I still don't know how I wound up with her on my face!"_

_"Poor you…at least it wasn't the dog this time."_

_The mention of the dog had Goku sputtering in protest. "That animal is never sleeping in our bed again." If the dog heard him and whined about it, Goku ignored it and refused to be pulled in by those puppy eyes. "No way. I draw the line when I'm waking up to two puddles of pee and one doesn't belong to our kid."_

_Vegeta snorted at tapped his mate on his chin. "You wanted the brats…and the dog."_

_Goku nipped at his fingers in response. "You gave them to me! You know I love you for it though."_

_"I know…proof that I love you if I'm doing in a fourth time."_

_He blinked owlishly at his mate. "A…fourth time?" Vegeta said nothing, but he didn't have to wait to hear it again. The soft subtle rounding of the stomach under his hands was proof enough. When Goku felt the unmistakable warmth of another connection within their bond, he laughed and hugged his mate to him tightly. It never got old…that feeling of elation knowing that there was another life to be born that was a mix of he and Vegeta. There was a point in time where he thought it would never be, but that point had come and gone and now…now they were expecting a fourth child._

_It was still as exciting as the first, and he knew Gohan would be beside himself in amusement. He was expecting again as well, though he was waiting to tell Yamcha. Yamcha was off on trip at the moment with his kids, claiming that they had to visit his old stomping grounds. It was a ruse for a surprise for Gohan, but Goku figured that it was best to let them surprise one another. _

_"I knew there was a reason for that cake!" he crowed joyfully. "Another one? I can't believe it!"_

_"Oh, believe it my loveable idiot…believe it…" Vegeta reached up and kissed him again, smiling when their heads remained connected. "But you have to promise me something. Something important."_

_"Yeah? And what's that?"_

_"….if you want…everything that you're looking at to remain as it is…" He took a slightly unsteady breath, grabbing the hands on his hips and pressing them to his stomach. He tightened his grip and forced Goku to really look at him as he was and as he was meant to be. "If you want this…you have got to get up."_

_He wanted to ask Vegeta what he meant, but the smaller saiyan shook his head and pressed his hands against his chest. Like water from a faucet, the blood began to flow and stain the fingers that clung to the opening wound in his chest. The sharp tug felled him—his back a barely there cushion for the inevitable meeting of himself and the ground. _

_He waited for the cold to wrap its fingers around his heart._

_It mocked him by doing nothing of the sort._

_Vegeta remained over him, hands splayed over his chest, the warmth of that life to be sitting kindly on his stomach and waiting for something to happen. What that something was Goku could not fathom, but surely it wasn't waiting to be born to a failure. The laughter of their kids was fading in the distance as the sun slowly began its descent into the west. Goku shut his eyes. The warmth of the day was slipping from him; the pain in his chest blossoming to life and settling within his bones to remind him of what he'd done. _

_Not once did he feel Vegeta leave him. _

_He was afraid to hold onto that hope._

_"If I get up," he said quietly, "You promise to be there?"_

_Vegeta gently pushed his fingers into the wound. "I'm always __**here**__…I'm always going to be here."_

_It didn't hurt. Goku couldn't breathe. It should have hurt…it was broken…wasn't it? "Even though…"_

_"Yes…and you've slept enough love." The very word carried so much weight in it that Goku thought his chest would cave in. Vegeta moved to lay over him, his gentle kiss sealing the wound that throbbed in remorse. "It's time to get up now…we're not due for a long while yet."_

_Perhaps. He closed his eyes and drifted into the warmth that connected him and his mate to one another, hesitant to open his eyes again. He'd done the one thing he promised not to do, though he wasn't sure if it wasn't some weird fucked up blessing wrapped in sheep's clothing. The pressure of his mate lying against him was his strength to do so, and he woke to the blinding white light that was sure pain._

* * *

There were certain things that teens should never be privy to. Pan was a firm believer in this, being that she was a teen on the cusp of legality and still prone to violent bouts of open disgust teenagers warranted when their boundaries were overstepped. Of the things that she thought that she should never have to see, the list included her parents "making out", her grandfather groping…certain people she would never think in an ill manner again…and seeing her grandmother text faster than she could sometimes. Really, that was just random and how Chi-chi managed to get that good with her phone when she was a virtual technophobe before was amazingly frightening.

There were other things on that list—things she could avoid readily and pay no heed to until someone brought it back up—but there were two instances that shot their way up to hold the top spots and had her blushing profusely and trying to shove her mind to accept the weirdness. The first of which was over and done with the moment Yamcha moved his face away from her father's. They kissed more often than she wanted to recount and she was afraid of the actual number of times their faces met. It only brought her around to thinking about things happening between adults to actually create babies…thoughts she kindly replaced with her urge to hold her arms over her breasts and squeeze them in defense.

If she ever had kids, she was never…ever….breastfeeding.

Her father glanced her way and laughed at her face. "You think this is weird?" he groused playfully at her red face, "Think of how I felt when the doctor said that I would be able to do this."

"Worst two days of my life," Yamcha muttered. "I never hated shirts as much as I did those two days."

"And you don't need to tell me another thing about it because I can only—no I don't want to imagine what you mean!" Pan whined. "But…that looks like it hurts…"

It didn't hurt anywhere near like it did an hour ago when he was suddenly aching in places that he hadn't been before. Gohan had been lying down peacefully minding his own business when his chest decided that it was a good time to erupt and start leaking. Pan spotted it before he noticed it, and when he discovered the stains in his shirt he shook his head at her assumption that it was water. Pan was always a smart cookie. She put two and two together and forgot to breathe for a minute.

Eventually her body took over for the absence of her brain. She snapped to when a nurse was walking into the room to check on Gohan while one of the babies realized that they wanted to eat. Pan purposely averted her gaze and wished she was able to mute her hearing when the nurse began instructing her father on how to nurse. Really, had her mother been here Videl would have laughed.

"Where is mom anyhow?" Pan muttered looking around. "I thought someone called her?"

"She's tracking your other grandfather down," Gohan said. "He's still ducking his responsibility."

"He's always been a cheapskate…and are you sure that doesn't hurt?"

Gohan shook his head at her. There was some minor discomfort but nothing he couldn't handle. "I'm okay. He's just enthusiastic."

"He's really going to town." Yamcha grinned at the way his son greedily devoured his first meal like a champ and refused to let go until he had his fill. He clamped down on thoughts of yesteryear and refused to think of such things. He could wish all he wanted…he would **never** see it. He had them…that's all that mattered now. "Gets it from his papa, heheh."

"Yeah? Well mister man is getting weaned early," Gohan chuckled. "He's certainly big though…"

"Are you ever going to name them?" Pan asked. "I mean, you never really discussed names or anything…at least not that I've heard…"

"Oh, we have names in mind," Yamcha said as he lifted his daughter out of her basinet. She yawned tiredly and decided that a little more sleep would do her some good. She was going to be a little monster when she wanted food. Yamcha could sense it in her, and Gohan winced at the thought of the next feeding. "We're going to announce them as soon as…as soon as…"

"As soon as your grandfather and Vegeta-san are well," Gohan finished softly. Yamcha gave him a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was worried, haunted by what he'd found and devastated that their Alpha had gone to such lengths…amongst other things. Gohan had gotten the cliff's notes version of events, and while he wasn't there he could fill in the blanks for himself. The scent of blood was still on Yamcha. No amount of washing could erase that smell, or the scent of silent mourning for days long ago. He could only reach over and kiss him in understanding, promising to properly console him when they were alone.

While he wished he could see his father and Vegeta for himself, Gohan knew that going to see them now wasn't going to stir them to wake any faster. He had his hands full right now, literally and figuratively, and his father wouldn't have wanted him to focus on anything other than the babies. As such, his son let out an ungodly belch as he released him and settled down to sleep some more with what Gohan would swear was a content smile. At least there was still some happiness to be held in light of the ongoing mess that was right now.

There was a soft knock at the door. Had it been a nurse, Goten, Krillin or Chi-chi, they would have walked right in. Yamcha didn't know where anyone happened to be right now or Bulma for that matter. She more than likely wouldn't have shown up anyhow. Not without Chi-chi right behind her. He hadn't seen Eighteen or Marron either, though it was more than likely they had gone home or were with Krillin wherever he was. He was still pretty shaken up about the turn of events. Being who he was, he wouldn't have wandered far anyhow.

The soft knock came again. Pan took it upon herself to get up and answer the door.

"Is Yamcha in here?"

Pan stared up at the male beta in confusion. "Um, yeah? Who are you?"

"My name is—"

"Dorian Reed, Sharon Reed's husband and mate," Yamcha answered from behind her. Pan turned around and dutifully took her slumbering sister from his hands. She didn't stir other than to gurgle sleepily, which only reminded Pan of her grandfather on sleepy days. He didn't like to move for anyone.

She silently prayed that he would wake up soon.

"Is everything all right?" Yamcha asked as he moved to let Dorian in. "Nothing's changed has it?"

"Hmm? Oh no, everything's stable right now with your Alpha," Dorian assured. Really, it was just a question of one of them waking up now, before anything could be determined. Yamcha knew this but it never hurt to be reassured of it. "That's not why I'm here though. Someone was looking for you."

"Someone…was looking for me?" Yamcha curiously rubbed the back of his head. No one he could think of popped to mind as far as looking for him. He really didn't have too many acquaintances outside of his immediate family, and of those who he did communicate with, it was more often over the phone. Some habits didn't change. He was still sort of a lone wolf figuratively speaking. "Who?" Maybe it was someone from a local pack?

Dorian stepped aside.

Yamcha felt his spine freeze right up. "Oh shit."

The young girl standing behind him looked as if she were a deer caught in headlights. "You're…Yamcha?"

She had her mother's eyes.

"…Um…are you…okay?"

Whoever said that the past catches up with someone hadn't been lying. He wanted to punch them in the throat. Yamcha nodded at her question and said as calmly as he could, "…yeah…I am." She looked relieved, at least until Yamcha's eyes began to glow and he said with promise, "I am him…and I am going to **KILL** your **_mother_**."

* * *

And cue the death threats.

Come ON. Did you really think I was going to leave Yamcha and Gohan alone? That's TOO obvious. I don't know why he was in the desert or why he was seemingly single all throughout GT (omg, that SERIES haunts me), but we're playing with that...and it's definitely not what you're thinking. I think I love Yamcha too much for that. (I have a soft spot for him. Deal with it. :D)

I will however promise that this...isn't the last of the drama. *evil laughter*

Oh, and there will be smut soon. That much I know. I mean, I've delayed it long enough. :)

Reviews FUEL ME.


	19. Open truths from hidden lies

**AN:**

What? Another update so soon?!

Well my friends, yes...and this is possibly one of the last updates that will be this quick. **Neko**, don't freak out! lol I'm getting down to the wire in school and I'm actually set to finally graduate, so there's that. ;)

I don't plan on discontinuing anything else (especially this), but I'm giving you a heads up! :)

**PAY ATTENTION HERE PLEASE!**

**_First announcement: _**

While I won't be updating this as quickly, I will be alternating between this story and **Dealing with it (revised)**. I've been so busy whipping this one out, I'm forgetting about the reason I even started this little guy here! Also, **Joys of Life** will be getting an update soon, as well as other stories in case anyone was reading them.

_**Second announcement:**_

My lovely litter reviewers (one being **0-Paradox-0** *waves*) asked some good questions that I would like to answer in case you're wondering:

1. Beast people are not a separate community. They live and function together with humans, but they operate a little differently. Think of it like two sets of directions for the same thing. One is for simpletons and the other is for advanced people. Not to say anyone is dumb, but you get where I'm going, right?

2. That girl that is claiming to be Yamcha's daughter is completely OC and I do not have an established pack placement for her. I don't know if she's going to be a Beta or an Omega, but technically she's an omega according to the heirarchy rules because she is without a pack at the moment.

3. I have plans for Trunks. No, he's definitely not getting together with anyone you're thinking of. ;) This is the evil in me coming out.

4. Do I want **Nancy103** as my after episode announcer? Yes. Yes I do.

5. Do I want **SlyterinQueen020** as the one who cracks the whip? Only when I'm in the zone. ;) Or fall out of it. lol

6. Do I answer my reviewers? Oh, most definitely when a valid question pops up or you make me melt in my seat from your cuteness.

7. What about BULMA!? Well...I don't know. We shall see. (again, the evil in me. ;D)

* * *

**Chapter 19:** Open truths from hidden lies

Krillin wanted to poke his face.

The urge had come when he walked into the room, disappointed when the person he'd come to see was lying unconscious in the bed. He'd come expecting to see two, but there was only the one with the both of them in it. Krillin, never having seen Goku and Vegeta in such close proximities, was a little red in the face.

Could anyone blame him? It's not every day he found out his best friend had the hots for a guy that tried to kill them once…or twice. That third time though, that was all on the parasite thing. Krillin couldn't blame him for that and he never did and when he woke up, he was going to tell him because he was a changed man!

He slapped his own forehead. Who the fuck was he kidding?

The monitors steadily beeping within the white noise of silence offered no comfort. All they did was assure him that someone was still living, even if he could see both bodies breathing in the light of the florescent day. It wasn't going to enlighten him on the issues at hand, or tell him more about this whole Alpha thing that had gotten them to this point. Hell, he barely paid enough attention to anything that wasn't his wife or kid, so this…this was something really new and really, really confusing.

"Krillin?"

He spied the twosome sitting in the corner stirring from their slumber under the covers. Trunks hadn't been the one to call him and Bra was still soundly asleep. When he looked to the door, he saw Goten standing there, curious about why he was in this room. Krillin really didn't know himself. He just…had to come. He had to see for himself that Goku was alive and not slipping away for something stupid like doubting himself.

He rubbed the back of his head tiredly. "Man…this is such horseshit."

When Krillin first met Goku, he thought he was some weird kid with a monkey's tail. The kid was naïve, full of mischief, and had a tendency to get into all sorts of trouble without even realizing it. He was always in good spirits though. Goku always had some kind of goofy smile on his face. His innocence is what made him so unique and why it was so hard not to follow him when he wanted to go do something that was absurd on a normal day of the week. Krillin, not an innocent child or prone to doing anything at the spur of the moment didn't know how he wound up being friends with such a guy. He made it so easy to believe in the good of people…to believe that sometimes fighting for the good of the cause was worth the many times he'd been beaten into the ground…or killed in several instances.

What bothered him now wasn't their friendship and what it stood for. What bothered him was when exactly did his friend change under his nose, and just how long had he been hiding it from everyone, or rather, how long had he been hiding it from Krillin? It hadn't mattered that Goku wasn't human after all or that he was of a whole different class when it came to fighting. Krillin didn't care about that then and he still didn't care about it. What he wanted to know and really felt like punching Goku's face in for was when did that overgrown idiot think that he wouldn't understand?! Had he forgotten just how much shit they'd been through for him not to really give a rat's ass about sudden shifts of nature?! Even if he didn't approve, he'd get over it!

"Because I'm your friend you asshole," he muttered towards the body of Goku lying motionless. Goku said nothing, and Krillin being who he was, walked over to his prostrate form and did the unthinkable.

He poked Goku's cheek.

"You have some fucking explaining to do when you wake the hell up," Krillin growled. "I'm not accepting your death like this…because this was UN-FUCKING-NECESSARY."

Goten, silent for the most part, couldn't help but ask, "Since when do you drop continuous F-bombs?"

"Since this asshole here decided to keep secrets. I may not get…this," he said gesturing at Goku and Vegeta lying side by side, "But I'm not going to suddenly start hating him because of his choices. Give me more credit! I'm a human, yes, obviously, but I've seen waaaaay too much shit in my life for THAT to really rub me sideways. Fuck, I still have nightmares about the freak," he groused. "My brain's already scared."

He poked Goku in the cheek again.

He was met with a single gold eye snapping open and staring at him sideways.

* * *

"Well, I take it that you know her," Dorian assumed when no one spoke right away. "You are acquainted?"

Yamcha was seated in the chair next to the bed Gohan resided in. His head was currently settled in his shaking hands. He kept trying to open his eyes, to reassure himself that he'd probably lost his mind and that he'd swallowed something to hallucinate all of this, but she was still there sitting at his feet and crying against his legs and begging him not to turn her away. He understandably didn't rush to silence her fears. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what was going on, and why this was happening right now.

People who were supposed to be dead didn't pop up like this. They just **didn't**.

"Dad…what's…going on?" Pan asked softly. "Who is she?"

Gohan, currently nursing his daughter—she'd woken up the moment she felt her father's distress—didn't see the need to keep something from his eldest girl at this point in time. What was going on wasn't supposed to be happening, at least not according to the tale that he'd been told at the beginning of their relationship. Yamcha wasn't a man without a past, and his past was filled with several relationships that went nowhere. It had taken years for Yamcha to get over the bashful side of himself when it came to females, and eventually he had settled into a relationship with a female for a couple of years around the time Pan was still somewhat new to the world.

Yamcha had been serious about that woman. At the time they hadn't been in contact with one another often enough to really delve into one another's lives, but Gohan vaguely recalled the hopefulness in Yamcha's voice when he spoke about her. Granted that was more than fifteen years ago, but love and heartbreak were emotions that stained the memory and could never be erased. They had their own drama to speak of and had lived through with their own relationship, but what they've learned helped them not to repeat the same mistakes with one another.

No one had ever met this woman he'd been involved with. They didn't get a chance to. Time tended to pass without one thinking about it and when they did ask he was single again and disinclined to look for what he hoped would be the next love of his life. He was withdrawn and unwilling to talk about it or her, taking to the desert life that was once his and checking in with the gang when he was good and ready.

Yamcha only needed to look at Gohan for him to understand and stare at the girl in just as much disbelief as Yamcha had moments ago. In the beginning of their relationship—Gohan still had trouble thinking there was a beginning when it felt like they'd been together forever—it wasn't the carnal devouring of one another that people thought it was. They actually talked…they talked about things as they were, what they hoped they would be, and they voiced their concerns about the future…and the past.

Yamcha had indeed avoided Gohan for a long time when he accidentally scented him at a party and realized belatedly that his smell was mouthwatering. The timing was off and Gohan was still married, but his instincts never failed him then or now. When they did decide to take what they were to another level, one of the inquiries was to question why Yamcha had been so adamant about keeping his distance. Gohan hadn't understood why and was convinced that it was something he had done. It was a bit of a pill to deal with unnecessarily and Yamcha had felt terrible about letting Gohan believe he was at fault. It had nothing to do with his future mate at the time, and recalling the past…**his** past…

Gohan wiped at his face absently. He still cried about it because it hit home in a way he never thought it could. They held no secrets from one another, not after that, and knowing it all made Yamcha's overwhelming protective streak tolerable, even necessary. Yamcha had been honest with Gohan from the start, and there were some things in his past that only his mate knew about. They had been through too much for things that happened within their respective pasts hinder them on a later date.

This girl happened to be one of them. This girl wasn't even supposed to be.

She was supposed to be **dead**.

"Dad?"

"…Do you remember…when I was in the hospital last year?" he asked softly. "When I collapsed?"

Pan swallowed the hurt that erupted from her chest. "Yeah." She'd been scared senseless about that, and it still haunted her to think that she could have lost her father that easily. He was fine later, but he never told her what happened or why it had happened. She hadn't bothered to ask either. She was still angry with him, which was rather stupid to her now. "Why?"

"Well…I…I was…expecting…before." She slapped her hand over her mouth immediately and held in the watery gasping cry of shock when her brain connected the dots before she could hear the rest. "I miscarried…and we didn't even know until afterward that I was…"

"Oh shit…dad…"

"I'm okay sweetheart…it's…not as bad now." No, certainly not. They had their son and daughter with them, and while he wished he could have known the little life that had been lost, he had two lives to treasure while he could. That pain of loss, however, was nowhere near as immense for him as it was for his mate.

"…It…was the second time…for Yamcha…" He looked over at him, not surprised to see Yamcha slipping off of the chair to wrap his arms around the girl that kept pleading for him not to make her leave. How could he? No one in his position would ever think to do that if— "Around the time you were born…he was dating someone," he said as looked down at his nameless daughter. She was slowing, but nowhere near done with her meal. She could care less about what was going on right now and Gohan couldn't keep himself from smiling at her.

It made it easier to accept everything as it stood, and the words came spilling out just as easily as he breathed. "The woman that he was dating had gotten pregnant…and after a fight they had…she told Yamcha that the baby wasn't his."

"….What?"

It was a shit thing to do and Yamcha hadn't believed her for a second. Gohan remembered how Yamcha visibly shook with anger when he recalled the tale and how they had stayed in bed the whole day quietly grieving for that loss the same day they'd dealt with their own. They liked their privacy for certain matters, and Yamcha didn't want to live his life dwelling on his past.

"So…what happened to her?" Pan asked. "Did she just up and leave?"

He nodded. She'd left him in the middle of the night without a word and her things gone for the most part. Yamcha, while a loner, was too honest of a man to lie readily about something that scarred him more so than the visible scars he bore. "He didn't hear from her from months," he said cradling his daughter closer, "and when he finally got a hold of her…she told him that the baby had died."

"Oh my god…"

"He never heard from her after that." She didn't want to be found and Yamcha couldn't bother himself with looking for someone that would leave him like that. He shut down, his hopes of a family destroyed, and he took to the desert with Puar to ignore the next thirteen years of his life. Gohan really missed that little cat. Puar always seemed to know what to say when Yamcha was having a crisis, or when life wanted to slap him in the face.

He didn't even want to think about Piccolo. It still hurt knowing he was gone and that the Namek wasn't here to witness this.

Pan could only shake her head in disbelief. A lot of his behaviors made more sense now. For a man that was seemingly a loner all his life, he was certainly complex, and she suddenly felt the difference between adulthood and being a teen as she was. The amount of hurt within an adult life could be suffocating.

"Is that why…he never let you out of his sight?"

"It's one reason. But—"

"She **lied**." Yamcha lifted his head from where it was buried against the young girl drying her eyes. He sniffed heavily, the underlying scent of himself too strong to deny. DNA could tell a person much, but the unique smell of a child usually was a mix of their own scent with the scent of their parents. She smelt like the city and something heavy like her mother used to smell, but that dry air…the scent of cactus flower beneath the heated desert air…that was HIM. "She **_lied_** and I'm totally going to kill her!"

"Well get in line!" came the muffled reply from his shirt. She wiped her face, pulling back just enough to be heard loud as day when she said, "My mother is a liar and I hate her! I'm never going back!" Looking at her face, it was hard to deny where her genetics came from. She even had the same scowl. "I thought…I thought you would…please don't make me leave…"

Dorian let his eyes linger on the bag she'd dropped. Clearly she meant what she said about not going back. However, "I hate to play devil's advocate," he said gently, "But does your mother even know you're here? Or that you left?"

Like most teenagers, she flinched when the nail hit the head. "…no…but…but I'm almost sixteen, and I can take care of myself!" she exclaimed. "I'm no burden!"

"Is that so? Miss…"

"Sierra." She pulled away a little more and looked over at Dorian when he knelt down to their level. "My name is Sierra…"

"Okay…Sierra…tell me, where have you been staying?"

"The Bay pack…I've been with them for a few days as a guest."

"And you haven't submitted to another Alpha? Or the Bay pack's Alpha, Bran?"

Her hackles rose. "No. I won't submit to someone I don't plan to know. I don't have a pack."

Yamcha could feel the defiance in her. It was too much like his at that age, and he wouldn't have followed anyone for anything until they had proven themselves to him. He surely didn't, and he denied ever following Goku even after the young unknown Alpha bested him more than once. Her shoulders were tense and hunched upward, as if the thought of submitting to an Alpha was physically painful.

Dorian had seen this once too often for him not to know what was going on. "So…you basically…ran away from home." She remained silent and he pressed on. "How long have you been from your mother?"

"A few days…I mean it's not like she really cares!" she ranted. "She's gone for days at a time and expects me to take care of the house like I'm her maid! She never tells me where she goes…she always wants to me to stay in the house like some kind of prisoner! "

Yamcha caught Dorian's gaze. Yamcha may not have been an active part of the community that he'd grown up in, but he knew the signs of when people like them were trying to hide their young. The reasons why were wide and varied, but one of those reasons may have had to do with her status.

They didn't have a chance to question her. The door was opening and Krillin and Goten were stumbling in excitedly with Sharon right behind them.

"Sharon? What—"

"He's awake!" she cried excitedly. "And so is his mate! They're both awake!"

"What…how—"

The nearby eruption accompanied by the minor earthquake that followed answered his question. He adjusted his glassed from where he lied on the floor, soon smothered by Sharon and her excitable self. "I wasn't aware that they could channel Ki," he muttered, ignoring the eruption of laughter around him. "Otherwise I would have insisted on an insulated room."

* * *

Vegeta dropped his hand and stared tiredly at the hole in the wall. It had been a knee jerk reaction, where a jerk had touched his knee and he'd gotten up with a discharge in his hand. There was nothing **fun** about being brought out of unconsciousness by unfamiliar hands, or feeling like his chest had been caved in when he let the colors of the world bleed back into his normal sight. He ignored the flare of pain that came with every breath. It was easy to ignore pain when the mind hurriedly caught one up with the recent flow of events, his sudden worry not on himself but on the red-furred body that sat with his back to him.

Goku was busily staring at the hole Vegeta made in the wall.

Vegeta knew what he was thinking. It was hard not to know. He could hear it plain as day and THAT was something he wasn't expecting to readily know and accept with the grace of a calm soul. The thoughts that were bleeding into his mind were not the usual self depreciating things he tried to shove from his head on a day to day basis. They were panicked, frantic…and impressed?

Seriously, why was Goku impressed by the hole in the wall?

Never before in all their time of being near one another or as close as they had been as of late had he ever really known the exact level of stress that Goku hid from him and everyone else. He may have been sitting there looking like the stoic impassive beast that he portrayed, but the fright in his eyes and the endless remorse hemorrhaging through his trembling was hard to miss. No one in their right mind should have been able to see that or to think as clearly as Vegeta was now, but he'd been around way too long to think much about this crap in depth. At the moment, Vegeta couldn't give a fuck about his ribs or the way the back of his head kindly reminded him of its presence.

He reached out and tapped one furred shoulder. "…Kakorrot…"

The big oaf hesitated to answer him. "Hmm?"

Vegeta studied him. Telling him the obvious was only going to make him think that Vegeta had lost his mind. So rather than tell him that he wasn't upset or angry—let's face it, he was royally pissed but not for certain reasons—he said the other thing sitting heavy on his tongue. "…would it make you feel better to know that…I really…**really**…want to punch you in your fucking face?"

It would actually. It did. Goku was a little shocked about it. It was when nothing came that he made a noise of confusion, and then one of extreme pain when that fist decided that it was better to slam into his side and twist. He got another punch in his arm, one that was hard enough to bruise and might have broken it if he was an ordinary fellow. As it was, he wasn't, and everything stung.

He fell over, waiting for Vegeta to slide out of the bed and out of his life. He fully expected that to be the outcome and the fact that Vegeta's fist hadn't landed in his face was a mercy on his part. He waited…and waited…and then he opened his eyes to see Vegeta still sitting there, looking at him like he was the stupidest person on the face of the earth. Scratch that, the UNIVERSE.

He certainly felt that way when the smaller saiyan slid down with him and tucked himself into his arms.

Had it been another day…had it been anyone else, Goku was sure that he would have found himself alone and wondering what the hell had gone wrong. He was tempted to pinch himself.

Was he still dreaming?

"You're a fucking moron," Vegeta muttered tiredly. Amidst the torn off wires, alarming monitors and the plaster still hanging on for dear life, he forced Goku's attention on him and only him when he shoved his head against his neck and refused to move. "A well-meaning moron…but a moron all the same."

"…please…don't…"

"Don't what? Don't tell you that you're an idiot for letting the human in you take over?" He felt Goku stiffen. He'd smacked that nail right into the plywood and cracked that plank down the middle. He may have forgotten a good bit of his instincts in his many years upon this planet, but never once did he forget that humans were as fickle as they were flawed and their reasoning sometimes made little to no god damn sense whatsoever. Anyone who embraced the realm of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas ran on instinct and what felt natural. Goku may have been trying to convey that in his own way, but all he'd managed to do was confuse himself and cause more damage than he'd meant to…and the big dummy knew it well enough to know that he should have been mourning the loss of what connection they once had.

He wasn't though. It was confusing the hell out of him and Vegeta put his mind to rest when he violently shoved his mind against his Alpha's and forced him to really understand just what happened.

Goku had let him go…but Vegeta had refused to let go.

He'd wanted Vegeta to choose an answer than had been given once before when all of this started. From the beginning, when they'd been on the battlefield as foes and later on as allies, there was a mutual understanding that was denied by both until they were forced to remember what they were.

Vegeta had given him his answer long before now and Goku hated himself for realizing it this late in the game. The need didn't just go one way…it had always gone in two directions.

"You promised me…you promised me that you'd never let me hate you honestly," he murmured, lips pressed to the heated skin of that chest forcing itself to breathe normally. His heart was a liar, all aflutter underneath and nervous of the words being said. "And I think you kept that promise…until you thought to give me a choice I didn't ask for. Not once…have I given you pause…about my decision…have I?"

"…Were….were you ever afraid…of me?"

"…once." He forced his Alpha to stay where he was with a soft sound of reassurance. "…I feared you once…though I feared you'd find…me…too damaged to pay any more mind to. I never feared you…not like **_that_**…not once I knew…I knew that you **loved** me…" In ways that no one would understand unless they were Vegeta, and Vegeta didn't wish himself on anyone. He needed to be pushed, to be shoved…to be taken apart and forced to see...to see that he needed someone who could take him as he was and cherish him when he needed it and tell him off when he was being a dumbass. No one ever took the time to see Vegeta for anything more than what he'd been…not even Bulma…and Goku had come along and undid his little bubble. "You…loved me enough to ground me…when I thought I knew better…when I thought no one would ever…**get** it." Get that he needed structure…a firm hand…an Alpha to take away his need to be defensive and just LIVE.

He smiled, honest and true and taking comfort in the mark on his shoulder that hadn't grown cold once. Vegeta wasn't a reflective type of person, or one who could deny what he felt right then, even when it looked like Goku wanted to bolt to spare him more pain.

"I kind of love you, you stupid fucker."

Love. Had he said that? Truly?

"I think this is where you say it back, idiot."

Goku had never said the words, afraid that Vegeta would run into mountains and never return. Vegeta had never inquired about them, too afraid to hear an answer that he wasn't prepared to hear. It was an unspoken topic between them, a word that was sure to destroy what they were and rebuild for the good or bad. Goku never wanted more than to say those words now, but his grief kept him from it as he buried his face into the wild mane sitting snuggly against his chin."….Vegeta…."

"Don't get me wrong…you're still a moron who is stupid enough to love someone like me…and try to give me a choice even after I've made my decision." He felt the snort more than heard it and paid it no heed. He could still hear the doubt in his mate's mind. "But yeah…" Vegeta sincerely didn't think that Goku realized this as he was too busy berating himself inwardly to speak properly with words. He'd get it soon enough.

For now, Vegeta thought it best to shut Goku up with a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. It's what started all this…and Vegeta figured he'd end it as it began. "You love me…and that's all that matters to me...not a choice I didn't ask for…or meddling people who don't know me as well as you do."

"…you…you…love me?"

Vegeta groaned and stared balefully at him. **Now** he got it. "…don't make me say it out loud again in front of the human idiots still staring at us. That's for your ears only," he murmured softly, "In bed…when you claim me properly and in a forever kind of way."

"….for real?"

"Of course. I promised I'd kill you once…" He tapped the bandages covering the wound on Goku's chest, the blood dried but ever present of the moments they'd nearly lost. It would never go away, just like they would never be whole without one another. "What makes you think I won't do it if you don't give me forever?"

Goku felt the laughter bubbling up before he could stop it. There was nothing funny about this, about **_any_** of it, but his shoulders shook and the laughter just wouldn't stop. He laughed. He laughed long and loud and hard…and he laughed until he couldn't breathe, until that laughter had dissolved into hysterics that weren't quite hysterics, when the tears came and rolled down his cheeks and wouldn't stop even after his mate had wiped them away time and time again.

He didn't know how long he lay there sobbing and apologizing. Goku didn't really care. Everyone was entitled to their moments and he took his until he couldn't find any more tears in him left to shed. Vegeta held him even after he'd swallowed the last of his grief. It was only fair…as many times as he'd been on the other side clinging to his Alpha.

Other people did care, however, and rudely reminded them that there were other people present with that god awful annoying cough that could only come from one short person who really didn't CARE about the blubbering level four saiyan sitting up to glare at him. Vegeta sat up with him; both saiyans taking in that hole with several medical personnel peering into it to make sure it was safe. Their family and friends gathered around the bed wiping their eyes in relief or looking away for the sake of modesty. It was around that time that Vegeta took in that it was drafty and that he wasn't exactly in the clothing he'd been in before. If he moved behind Goku to cover up some of his dignity from that stupid revealing paper thin gown, no one remarked on it.

He'd put a hole in the wall. What's to say that he wouldn't blast someone for their unnecessary commentary on his rear end?

**_I think your ass is amazing._**

The smaller saiyan looked at his Alpha staring back at him slightly. The soft twitch of his lips was a dead giveaway to the current status of his awareness of this bond settling back into place. This telepathy thing? It didn't happen with just anyone. There had to be some type of deep connection or one of subservience, and even then it was never as clear as it was between him and Goku. Goku still thought he was dreaming, but not enough to send Vegeta a vivid image of just what he **wanted** to do to his "amazing" ass. Vegeta took it upon himself to pinch Goku and make him aware that this was real.

He might have left a bruise.

Krillin, being Krillin, cleared his throat again. This time he had Goku's full attention and didn't bat an eyelash at the fact that he was this scary looking level four saiyan looking annoyed that his thoughts were interrupted. He could care less about it, or the fact that Vegeta was nearly naked, or that Goku was gently prodding at that wound on his chest when he remembered what pain was. He was too elated that the idiot wasn't dead, so Krillin did what came natural.

He jumped onto the bed and hugged Goku's head. "You're such a fucking idiot," he muttered fondly. "I hate you a little bit…but I still love you, you stupid jerkface."

Goku could only sit there stupidly and absorb the words muttered into his head. "Vegeta…is he—"

"Yep." Vegeta couldn't bring himself to glare, not that he could anyhow when he was snickering as hard as he was. "That's **_your_** friend…and you owe him and everyone else an apology."

"Apologize LATER." Goku turned with Krillin still attached to his head and spied Yamcha fast approaching. His second never looked so pissed, but that anger wasn't directed at him…which was weird. Goku would have thought Yamcha would have been the maddest of them all outside of Vegeta, but this was proving to be one of those weird days where nothing made sense. Yamcha somehow found some room to throw his arms around his waist and squeeze, inhaling the scent of him. He still smelt of blood and the sour feeling that was regret, but he was alive, alive enough that a punch to his shoulder had him gaping at just how much it HURT. Goku didn't get a protest out before he was being squeezed to death again. He was being squeezed from the right and the left and Vegeta was just laughing his ass off at him.

"Never, ever, **_EVER_**, do anything so stupid again!" Yamcha cried. "You know better than to let people get under your skin! It does things to your head…and your head tends to be thicker than your hide!"

Goku gave him a dry look. "I'm well aware of that, thank you." His shoulder was killing him. Just how much blood did he lose anyhow, and why…wait, why wasn't that the first question? "Stupid question…" he muttered looking down at the patched up work that was his chest. He knew why. This was probably, no, definitely one of **those **scars. Every time he did something stupid it was going to keep him in check…though he might have preferred the actual scar compared to the pain that came with it. That part was going to suck…

"I kind of deserve it..."

They wouldn't have known what he meant if he hadn't kept his hand over the wound.

As lovely as this strange get together **wasn't**; other people wanted to get to the bed. Bra and Trunks, first hand unnoticed witnesses of everything that had gone on quickly invaded the already encroached space and crowded their father with cries of relief. Goku flinched at their proximity. It was hard not to. Those were Vegeta's children…the one's he'd brought into this little unit to make them family…and here they all were, bandaged, bleeding, crying, or all of the above. The guilt was bubbling harder than before and it was taking everything he had to stay where Yamcha and Krillin had basically grounded him.

His discomfort was noted and ignored by the purple haired half saiyan currently wrapped around his father's waistline. Trunks willed him to look his way. He raised a hand—amused when Goku braced himself to be hit—and tapped the mark that hadn't quite faded from the bridge of his nose. His mark was a reminder; respect came in all forms and to disrespect one's elders is to disrespect himself. It was a hard lesson to learn, but one he embraced and remembered each time he realized just how much his family meant. He gestured to the wound on Goku chest next. Goku swallowed the lump in his throat.

Every scar, no matter how it was given, was a lesson. His was a painful lesson in love and forgiveness.

Dorian and Sharon interrupted their little reunion with soft coughs of their own. "As much as we…are ELATED, that you have woken up," Sharon said—she purposely did not hide the little catch in her throat, "We need to make sure that you two are really all right. Broken bonds have unexpected effects and—"

"It wasn't broken," Vegeta said. "Not completely."

"Thank the heavens for small miracles…" Goku murmured.

"Yeah, let's," Krillin frowned. He might have punched him again, albeit lightly this time. "We need to have a serious chat about secrets, leaving me out of them, DYING UNNECESSARILY, and my future rights as Uncle Krillin."

Goku stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Uncle Krillin?"

"Yes. I mean this one here," he said poking Yamcha, "Just had a kid of his own, what's stopping you and Vegeta? I mean, it's going to happen…it has to. All this shit didn't happen for you two not to produce some adorable little tyke that has me wrapped around his or her fingers right?"

Only Krillin would skip right to the embarrassing parts and call them out needlessly. He really didn't know how close he was to hitting the nail on the head, if Vegeta's embarrassed snort was anything to go by. Had he seen it all, or had Vegeta been the cause of those silent dreams Goku once didn't dare to tell? They would discuss it later when things were settled. Until then, Goku decided it was one of the many reasons he loved Krillin and apologized by not denying a lick of what Krillin said.

Of course Yamcha would remember right then his own little situation back up in labor and delivery.

He may have let out a hysterical little giggle.

"Yamcha?"

"Um…Remember that…little situation…I told you about in strict confidence?" he said releasing his Alpha from his grip. Goku didn't know what he was talking about, not until he thought about those two babies he'd yet to meet. He didn't really understand what that had to do with anything, though Goku remembered that there was another similar situation once before. It had been so long ago though. What did **that** have to do with anything?

Yamcha moved out of the way a little and stared over at the doorway where another body was standing awkwardly, not sure if it was safe to come close or even if she wanted to. Goku's eyes widened.

There was no way. He couldn't deny that face because he'd seen the male version of it nearly every day in the recent years. "Please tell me you're going to rip her throat out."

Yamcha was torn between jumping up and down like an idiot and punching another hole in the wall. "I might." Sierra gave him a small smile and he thought adding to the current hole in the wall was appropriate...later though. "We need to figure this out…**after** you and Vegeta get checked out."

That was everyone's cue to get up and leave with Sharon's insistent hands motioning all extra bodies out of the way toward the door or the new exit. She promised they would be done soon enough and then they could smother them to death (or not) all they wanted. She was concerned about their bond, about that wound on Goku's chest, and she knew her mate was even more curious to learn about their bond, as he hadn't witnessed something like this in all his years of learning. The main goal was to make sure they were okay, physically anyhow. The mental part was another matter for later.

Soon all whom remained were Sharon, Dorian, Vegeta, and Goku…and an unsuspecting stupid medical assistant that had the audacity to brandish a set of needles. Vegeta didn't have time to tell the idiot to put those away. Goku was already scrambling backward with choice words leaving his mouth in time with loud growls and charging up his hands before anyone could tell him not to.

There was another hole in the wall. Vegeta dropped his head into his hands.

Some things would never…**ever**…change.

* * *

All righty then.

I feel like you guys need a tissue. *hands them over*

I have spring break now, so...SLEEP. YAY! Oh, and updates...there are those. ;)

Really, I appreciate all you guys do and say. Here's to you and here's to me finishing this beast eventually! :D Cheers!


	20. Calm waters Stirred

**AN:**

Okay, I know. It's been...a while. But I've got good reasons.

1: I graduated.

2: I'm working.

3: I've not been that inspired.

4: I'm lazy.

5:...did I mention the writer's block/laziness?

Other than that...I had some free time on my hands and...this popped up. ^-^;; Um, yay me?

* * *

**Chapter 20:** Calm waters stirring

It took several hours for the commotion of the day's horrid and wondrous events to settle down into a tolerable level—tolerable meaning calming down a raging Alpha twice in the span of an hour when the medical staff didn't realize that needles would be the death of someone. It took another hole and Vegeta literally holding Goku back to get him to keep still long enough for blood samples to be taken. The second time Vegeta had threatened to blow something up and Goku was all for letting him do it, until Sharon had revealed that the vials were for Vegeta this time and not Goku.

Vegeta didn't have a problem giving the samples. It was keeping Goku from snapping the man who drew the blood in half that was the challenge. He behaved for the most part.

Sharon and Dorian decided then that it was best to move them elsewhere in the hospital.

They'd been moved to a private room and hooked up to several monitors to keep tabs on their vital signs. Goku and Vegeta knew the drill having been in the hospital too many times for things much more severe and dire, though their days lore didn't involve them pressed against one another in the same bed, refusing to part other than to eat or use the facilities. They slept more than ate and took comfort in the silence lying heavily between them. Right now they just wanted a quiet space and time to reaffirm the bond between them and their family and the medical staff were willing to give it to them.

Night had fallen when things had dimmed themselves down to silence and the usual mayhem of a hospital without the added drama of an Alpha. Sleep was fast coming to those who were stuck within those walls. It turned out to be a family affair. No one wanted to leave anyone else alone. They couldn't bring themselves to. Death had come a knocking gently on their door and called to bring two of their loved ones to the other side because of their bond. It was frightening to come close to losing anyone, and leaving even if it was to go home and sleep left a sharp stab of fear in the back of their heads.

Unfortunately Krillin did have to leave. He'd been away from his own family too long and he was sure Eighteen was home waiting with Marron for him to fill them in. He had such a story to tell them. Eighteen would probably read him the riot act for being gone so long. Despite this, he was going to come back to see everyone the next day without fail. He still felt the need to poke Goku in the face and readily remind him never to be that stupid again, and to remind him that they were bros…no matter who did what or why it happened. He also had to meet Yamcha's little ones and congratulate him and Gohan, which was reason enough to leave without too much hesitation. He hugged Yamcha and waved farewell to everyone else and vanished to tend to his wife and child.

Assured that no harm would befall the heads of their pack for the moment, Yamcha swept everyone upwards to the labor and delivery floor where the two main reasons for being here in the first place were quietly sleeping. Gohan welcomed them with a wave. He was on the verge of sleep himself considering the day he had. It hadn't even been a couple of hours since he'd thought his pelvis would shatter from the way his children came flying so quickly into this world, but already they were surrounded by drama and missing the inevitable cooing and coddling of their grandparents. No one had seen Chi-chi since the afternoon or Bulma. Gohan was a little concerned but Yamcha reassured him that Chi-chi was and always would be a mother looking out for her boys. If that meant missing another day of spoiling her grandbabies to beat some sense into the one that partially caused this, then so be it.

He readily leaned into the soft kiss lain on his head. The soft, "You should sleep," didn't go unheard. Gohan promised he would in a bit, once the others had stopped their inspection of the newest additions to their strange brood.

Pan had already seen the little ones and held them more than once. She couldn't believe how warm someone could be, or how tiny. She was still a bit in awe that she had new siblings, that they were here and that her father had given birth…and she hadn't fainted. She proudly patted herself on her mental back for that one. As weird as her life was between the Grandpa Alphas, the merging of couples that she never would have placed together, and rampaging ego-maniacs blowing stuff up (it had been years since the last epic fight but STILL who forgets that shit?) this was a relatively calm moment that didn't need her overactive brain imagining things. She had siblings…and they were going to sleep, poop, and pee for the next couple of months.

"Years." Pan turned to Yamcha beaming proudly at the clear basinet and went with the light pat of her head. "They're going to sleep, poop, and pee—"

"And Cry."

"—and cry for the next couple of years…and I can't wait."

His pride was felt throughout the room. Goten grinned at him before he leaned over the bassinet and saw what had everyone in a tizzy this morning.

"Oh my god…"

"Hmm?"

"They're obnoxiously cute!"

Goten was immediately smitten. He was a big puddle of goo that wanted to pick up his new nephew and niece and spoil them for all their days on this planet. Gohan swore it was worse than when he met Pan for the first time which Goten completely denied…and then came over to smother Pan in his arms with, "You've gotten so BIG!"

She let him hug her and giggled when he muttered about time flying.

"How did the two of you manage to make the cutest babies on the planet?!" he hissed playfully. "Are you trying to drain my pockets?!"

Gohan snickered tiredly to himself. "I'm blaming it on luck," he yawned. "And good blessings…"

"You really should sleep," Yamcha urged. "You've had a long day."

"I will. Maybe…sooner than…later I suppose." Another yawn had his eyes watering and falling shut without his say so. He forced himself up long enough to accept the heartfelt kiss lain on his lips and slid down under the covers with soft words of love chasing him into his dreams. There was no finesse to falling asleep for a tired bearer. Gohan dropped off immediately and was snoring lightly with his head propped against the pillows.

Trunks and Bra were a little less animated about the twins. They were glad that they were here and that they were safe and sound and cute as a button, but their attention was on the new face hovering in a corner trying her best to keep her distance and stay within some proximity of Yamcha. They didn't know who she was or why she was here, at least not until Pan gave them the short version of a long story she'd heard after everyone had run out to see if the heads of their pack were truly up and awake.

Sierra had the unpleasant shock of being the center of attention once again. She wasn't truly a part of anything or belonged to anyone, though she wanted to believe differently. There was so much going on that it was easy to ignore her if they chose. She half hoped she would be ignored. She no more wanted unnecessary attention on her than she wanted on the man she'd come searching for. It shouldn't have been so easy to find him…and he shouldn't have been so willing to…treat her like she'd always belonged to him…

It was weird. All her life she'd been wondering just who her father was…and she never once thought that it'd be a beta that took his responsibility as seriously as he breathed. When he approached her and placed a careful and thoughtful hand on her head, it felt as if all the missing pieces of her life slipped into place and left her breathless. She hugged him and refused to let him go, unsure of what she should do or say.

"I think…we should go on a late night raid," Trunks suggested. The others looked at him and he shrugged with a light rub of his stomach. "I haven't eaten at all today."

"Finally, something that doesn't require effort!" Goten exclaimed. "It's not late enough to have to scour for food, so there are plenty of places to go."

"I know. Did you want something Yamcha?"

"Call me when you decide on a place," Yamcha replied. "I want you to bring something back for Gohan."

"I understand. And you, Sierra?" The teen was certainly surprised by the offer and bashful when she realized that Trunks was smiling at her. "Did you want something to eat? It's on us, all right?"

She looked up at Yamcha who nodded his approval "I guess? I mean…thank you, very much."

Goten waved her off. "It's not a problem. Come on Pan and Bra. We're going to need extra hands for this." The girls groaned but complied and walked ahead of the men snickering at how they didn't even realize they were stepping in sync like they used to. The girls were too preoccupied with finding food to let their current differences get in the way of something simple like walking side by side with one another. Goten was the last one out, waving at Yamcha and Sierra as he shut the door.

"I don't suppose…you want to fill me in on the last fifteen years of your life, hmm?"

"…it's almost sixteen," Sierra mumbled. "And I suppose not…I mean, there's not much to tell."

"There's always something to tell…even if it might sound like nothing…and I want to hear it." She looked up at him again, this time in slight disbelief as he smiled at her like she belonged. She never remembered getting that look from her mother; her mother stared at her in fondness, but there was always that forlorn lingering in memories of what was and what could have been. Sierra never understood it really, at least not until she found herself willing to tell this man everything. "Believe it or not, until now, I didn't think I would ever be a father…and within the span of a few hours," he laughed lightly, looking back at the slumbering twins, "I have three kids…well, four, if you count Pan."

"Pan?"

"The girl with the bandana. She's my mate's daughter from a previous relationship. Smart girl…outspoken and headstrong, but she gets that from her grandfather."

"Her grandfather?"

"Mmm hmm. That Alpha you saw earlier."

"That Goku guy, right? ….wait, that's her grandfather?!" she cried. Yamcha laughed at her. "He's so young looking! There's no way he's—"

"Oh he is…and I'm older than him. I should know."

Sierra looked over at the slumbering form of Gohan sleeping comfortably for the first time in hours. "So, that's his son, right?" she asked quietly. All of them were so young looking; it was impossible to tell that these people were indeed older than they looked, not that they acted like it at all. Most people hitting their fifties and sixties were complaining about aches and pains and getting spots in places that there weren't spots before. Her mother certainly gripped about her wrinkles more often than not and spent more money trying to hide them on actual food.

The thought of her mother made her growl a little. "I won't lie," she murmured softly, "My life wasn't bad…but I…I felt like something was always missing. I tried asking mom about it…about who you were…about the person who was my father, but she always said she made a bad mistake."

"Sierra…"

"For a long time…I thought I was the bad mistake. I didn't understand why she wouldn't tell me about you." Every time she consciously thought to ask her mom about her father, it never went well. Not in the ways that would give her a glimpse of why he wasn't in her life or if he even had a choice about the matter. She knew a bit differently now, having overheard the story from Gohan when he was explaining it to Pan, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I thought…I thought you were some low life deadbeat that just up and left…I mean, my mom is always bragging about her conquests," she laughed bitterly, "So I thought…who would leave such a woman? She's smart, she's pretty…she's always got something going on and is never lacking for company…"

"I see that hasn't changed."

"No…but she's a drunkard too…and I suppose I should be glad of it." She pushed her head into his chest and sagged against the arms folding around her shoulders. She couldn't remember how many times she envisioned being held by her father, or even speaking to him. It was a nice feeling…one she knew had to be interrupted sometime. "She mentioned your name…and I gotta tell you, there are more Yamcha's out there than I thought."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Anyway," she said slipping free of his embrace, "I didn't fully figure this part into it…you know, with you…just outright accepting me…but, um…I guess I should…tell the Bay Pack where I am?"

"How come?"

"I'm staying with a friend of mine. We kinda grew up together and he's been kind enough to put me up while I was looking for you. I don't want to worry him…or have the network out looking for me. Unless…I should—"

"No, you're welcome to stay tonight…but you should call your friend," Yamcha said.

Sierra stepped backward and hesitated. Yamcha didn't avert his gaze. "You're not going to tell me the obvious?" she questioned.

"Why? She's probably out looking for you now," he said tiredly. His smile softened his slight ire and she couldn't help feeling a little guilty about all of it. "And if she were me…I'd be a little frantic. It's your decision though. I can't tell you what to do any more than a stranger could."

"But…you're my father…"

"True…but you've been your mother's longer than you've been mine. You've been dead in my head for your entire life." It was a sad fact, a heavy one as well, but he was honest about it. It was still difficult to take in, despite her standing there right in front of him seeking answers that he didn't have. "You're alive and here now, yes, but I've no claim over someone I don't truly know. I want to know you, Sierra…I really do…but I'd rather know you with your mother's blessing and common sense than sneaking around her back…besides," he said looking back at his family, "I want you to know them, too."

The soft snuffling of his boy had him smiling all over again. His snuffling became light whimpers and he crossed the threshold to take his son into his arms. The babe quieted at being held, though he was wide awake and staring at the proud father who couldn't fathom not having him here.

"We need to do it the right way for once." His children deserved better. His mate deserved better. **He** deserved better. "I've lost too much to do things haphazardly now."

He made sense…and she wanted to hate him for it. "I see." She couldn't muster up the anger to be hateful when he spoke the truth, and truth was something she treasured much more than anything. "Can I borrow your phone?"

He readily handed her his. "Calling your friend?"

"Yeah…and…" she said dialing the number towards a woman that was sure to scream her head off at her in the next few moments, "I'm calling my mom, too."

* * *

"Whoa…that's a bit heavy," Goten murmured. "I had…no idea…"

No one did. It was a rather heavy subject, one the immediately depressed them enough to stop eating for a moment. As far as Pan knew, her father and Yamcha had planned to keep it to themselves until or if it ever came up. Well, it certainly came up, in the form of a teenage girl named Sierra claiming to be Yamcha's daughter. Pan was the first one to be skeptical about claims like that or random people popping up out of nowhere, but to put it as bluntly as she knew, she'd seen and heard a lot of shit over the years that didn't comprehend anywhere near the level of this type of normalcy.

Besides, she thought as she thoughtfully resumed eating her burger, it wasn't like Yamcha to readily break down as he did at the sight of her. She was just a girl…a girl who looked like she could use a brush in her hair and a new pair of shoes…a girl who looked like she'd gotten into a fight or two and won…a girl who looked rather lost…a girl that looked too much like him for her to really deny that she was anything but his daughter. She didn't have the nose or the know how to tell if she was who she claimed, but Yamcha did…

"Do you think…she'll stay?"

"I dunno," Pan answered softly. "But if she does, it's going to be weird."

"Weird?" Trunks asked. "How do you figure?"

"Well for one, we've already established some kind of balance to the ranks within our pack…although Grandpa went and fucked that to hell with his little stunt…"

"You can't blame it all on him," Bra said. "My mom had a LOT to do with it…"

"There is that," Trunks muttered. "I didn't think she'd go there though…she's taken the courses…it's the only reason she knows what we are…although, I'm starting to think that she really wasn't paying attention to dad at all over the years…" He swallowed a handful of fries with the bubble of guilt that readily displaced the calm in his chest and left him with this sickening dull ache he hand to fight back down. It was a lot like vomit and he was too hungry to give it all up tonight. They all had their demons to deal with, some more than others, and a fresh reminder of that was left with his father and Goku sleeping back at the hospital. He rubbed his nose a bit, wondering if indeed the marks of lessons were reminders of what was precious. If so…then Goku was going to carry that mark as heavily as Trunks carried his.

There was a lot more weight behind Goku's. Trunks felt a little remorseful that it even happened.

Wasn't he the only one who was supposed to bear such a mark?

"I thought adults were the ones who had the answers," he said quietly. "I thought…when you were grown…you knew enough to make sure you didn't make the same mistakes others had…"

"You are an adult you know."

He shoved his sister lightly. "I know…but I guess even grownups still have lessons to learn, even if they were unintentional. You'll be grown soon, too, you know."

"I know…but I don't plan on letting anyone do **that** to me."

She could have been speaking of a number of things that occurred today, but Trunks knew his sister well enough to pin her words down to the actions of their mother and what she'd allowed to happen. The whole situation at best was one that should have been figured out between their elders, but the actions of one pushed the actions of another, and resulted in a mixed melee that resulted in everyone getting hurt in some fashion.

Rather than try to figure it out, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She wouldn't outwardly say so right now, but seeing their father like that twisted something violently to the left and had them desperately praying that no bad would harm their father again. He had a feeling that Goku would be walking on eggshells around them and Vegeta for a while. In his mind he'd failed to do the one thing he'd promised and there was no deeper disappointment when a self-made promise was broken.

"Hey…what are you thinking so deeply about?"

Trunks went with the finger on his brow and kept walking forward as Goten walked backward. "I'm thinking about why you haven't introduced your girlfriend to the rest of the family," he smirked. Goten immediately tripped and landed in midair, having done that once too often to let his backside kiss the ground. The girls giggled, but Trunks was a bit too stunned at the immediate embarrassment that colored Goten's cheeks.

"Damn, I thought I was more careful…" Goten murmured.

"More careful? I was just kidding…wait, you—?!"

"It's…not official, but I have been talking to someone." Goten righted himself and landed as if he hadn't admitted to Trunk's inquiries or that Trunks was currently struck speechless by his easy admittance. "It's not on the level where Dad is with Vegeta, but I like her."

"…do we—"

"No, you don't know her…and I think it's going to stay that way until this family settles itself down."

Trunks couldn't disagree with him, but it was a bit of a large pill to swallow knowing that Goten—a guy who couldn't keep a secret from ANYONE—managed to pull the wool over his eyes. He was mildly impressed and deeply disappointed that he hadn't picked up on that at all. He wasn't going to dwell on the irritable itch of sudden deflation that started to sag his shoulders and had Pan looking at him as if he would fall apart any second. He wasn't that weak…and obviously he wasn't as quick as he should have been.

He put on a smile he knew didn't reach his eyes or Goten's brain as anything less than what it was. "You like her that much?"

"Enough to make sure I don't ruin a good thing," Goten quipped. "We've been on a few dates…but I've known her for a while. You…could say that she didn't…smell right until recently. I don't know how to explain it better than that."

Knowing Goten as well as they did, he really didn't know how to put it into words. Trunks was well versed in Goten speak and it meant nothing good for whatever prospects that were available before right now. He must have really liked this girl—whoever she was—to keep her out of the madness until things were settled.

Somehow the wind seemed a little colder as they continued their walk back. Not even Pan holding onto his right arm and Bra pressed under his left could make him think any differently.

* * *

Yamcha didn't know when he fell asleep.

One moment he was sitting and staring at the screen of his phone and the next it was morning with him waking to a crick in his neck. His head was bowed backward against the wall, the cushion of the chair he was in providing some comfort but not enough to keep him from regretting how he'd fallen asleep. He hadn't thought he was that tired, but apparently his body had made the ultimate decision to black out on him and let him wake when it was good and ready. The sun was up and the hospital was abuzz from the sounds of people walking back and forth amidst the usual worried spiel coming in between bouts of nurse gossip and monitors that could not be turned off. He lifted his head with a slight groan, rubbing the back of his neck absently as he cracked his shoulders and rotated the stiffness out of them. His age was telling on him.

"You're awake?"

"I don't know," he mumbled. Another crack of his back and he felt relatively normal again. "I feel awake…but I could be sleeping. Why? Is there a reason to be awake now?"

His eyes slid over to the laughter coming from his mate sitting propped up in the bed looking much better than he did when he fell asleep last night. "I think there's plenty reason to be awake…namely your son demanding breakfast this morning at the crack of dawn."

Everything sped up after that. Yesterday flooded his mind and he was smiling like the goofball he felt like inwardly when he remembered that yesterday involved the arrival of two little blessings. He got up then, ignoring the crick in his neck and the way his legs reminded him of how he'd run across town yesterday and placed himself down on the oversized bedding to greet his mate with a firm kiss on his cheek. As much as he wanted to kiss him proper, Yamcha wanted a toothbrush first.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore…tired…elated," Gohan laughed softly. "Mostly grateful. I wanted to wake you, but you must have been tired if you slept through the screaming."

"M'sorry…"

Gohan chuckled again and rested a light hand on Yamcha's face. "Please, save your apologies. You're going to need your rest as much as me." Yamcha kissed the center of that palm before his forehead. "We're going to be sleep deprived for a couple of months yet."

"I can't wait."

"You say that now, but you'll change your mind soon enough."

Perhaps, but that didn't dampen his elation or his curiosity as to where the babies were. "Doctor Reed took them for a final run through," his mate explained. "She said I should be able to go home sometime this afternoon if I'm well enough."

"I managed to sleep through a lot, huh."

"Yes…but you did a lot yesterday. So rest up buddy."

He took it for what it meant and flopped down on the hospital bedding with his mate laughing next to him. He was content enough that he could have easily fallen asleep without a second thought, but yesterday's events were swirling against the front of his mind and making it impossible to be silent. The highlight of his day had to be the arrival of his newborn son and daughter, both born with dominant traits that would make it easier for them to establish their place within the world. He feared more for his son than his daughter…being an Alpha tended to bring about fights that weren't necessary and after staying with his own…he was going to have to train him early to suppress some of his dominance until he was of age. Other than the initial fears of being a first time dad to twins, he couldn't have been happier right now even if the other worrisome thing on his mind came bursting through the doors to scream at him.

He looked at the doors anyhow and willed them not to open. Of course they didn't listen, but he wasn't going to admit his relief when he saw that it was the kids and two faces he thought he wouldn't see for a little longer. He noticed another face wasn't there, but he wasn't worrying about where she happened to be right now.

Chi-chi sans Bulma and Videl eagerly made their way inside to hug, congratulate and demand to see the babies before they ripped this place apart. Gohan laughed at them and Yamcha eagerly promised that their demands to see the newest additions would be met soon enough.

"I heard you had QUITE the birth mister!" Videl laughed. "Pan filled me in!"

"Did she happen to tell you that I'm extremely sorry?" Gohan rubbed his slightly extended stomach with a wince. "Because I am…and I fully understand why you didn't want to do it again."

"Pfft, please," she snorted. He might have said that now but she could plainly see that those two wouldn't have minded having more if it were possible. "I was happy with the one. I see another little face in your future…but I want to enjoy the little ones you have now."

"They should be back in a little while." He rubbed his chest next, no longer embarrassed to express his discomfort with the obvious. He was never going to get used to what his body suddenly deemed it was capable of doing, no matter how much he did it. "Our son is due his meal soon. He eats like his dad."

"And as soon as he's done, our princess drains whatever's left," Yamcha chuckled. "I see a lot of bottles in our future."

"And diapers," Chi-chi said. "I can't tell you how many diapers I went through with my sons. I think Goten was worse than Gohan…"

"And that's my cue to stop you while you're ahead!" Goten exclaimed amidst the scattered laughter from everyone. "Let's focus on the new poop and not the old, okay?"

The kids, rather, the young adults had made themselves comfortable in spots throughout the room. Pan was seated in the chair Yamcha had been in with Trunks sitting on the arm. Pan looked like she'd had some type of decent sleep somewhere, but Trunks looked like he hadn't slept at all last night. There was no way to tell. Yamcha didn't even remember if they'd brought back anything for him to eat or not or if he even ate it. He noticed something else as well, though it shouldn't have bothered him the way it did. Trunks—while smiling at the open antics of Goten—wasn't looking in his best friend's direction. His attention wasn't on any one person or thing despite his ears being wide open to everything.

Goten seemed oblivious to it. He sat in another chair across the room with Bra on his right and Sierra on his left. It was safe to say that the rift from before was still in place between Pan and Bra, but the width wasn't as great as it had been. While they didn't really pay attention to one another, they did glance at the other every now and again. It was a marked improvement, one that Yamcha acknowledged and let go of in order to focus on Sierra sitting quietly amongst the ruckus.

"Where did you guys sleep last night?" he questioned. "You weren't here when I woke up."

"We slept in here, but we went out to breakfast after my nephew decided it was time for his," Goten answered. "We thought it would be best to leave you two alone for a while. You guys did just expand the line."

"We ran into Grandma and my mother on the way back here," Pan said. "We filled them in."

Yamcha looked at Sierra again. "On…**everything**?"

Chi-chi's hands came flying to land on his shoulders and grip them tightly. "Yes…**everything**." That was the voice of a woman who was unforgiving of what she'd been told, though the part that was unforgivable was lost until she clarified with a slight snarl that would have had Goku running at one point in their lives. "I won't pass judgment on a woman I do not know, but her actions are reprehensible at best," she spat. "You didn't deserve that and neither did Sierra."

He appreciated her support. He truly did. Yet how ever mad he was at the situation, "I don't pretend to understand her reasoning, but I would like to know," he said. "But I suppose that's going to have to wait until she shows up. If she shows up."

"Oh, she's coming." Sierra looked down at her clenching hands and kept her eyes from tearing up. "She made that real clear last night over the phone…"

The phone. Yamcha remembered that much before everything went blurry—the heated exchange and the loud scream of incredulity coming from the other line when Sierra told her mother none too kindly what she'd done. He'd snatched the phone from her hands after one too many swears and didn't say a word until she'd started asking if Sierra was still there. When she'd stopped calling Sierra…the reluctance and guilt in her voice tilted what little patience he could muster for her into the abyss.

"I'm probably going to need a new phone," he muttered.

"Is that the charred mess we saw in the trash?" Trunks asked.

Yamcha made a small sound of assent. "I might have crushed it first…and then baked it."

He did a little more than that, but Sierra wasn't going to elaborate on it. She was a little too busy staring in disbelief at her father sliding out of the bed to head where she was. "No matter what happens in the coming hours," he said kneeling before her, "You **are** my **daughter**. If I had a choice I would have NEVER allowed this…but while I can't change the past, I can be a part of your future. WE can be a part of your future." He reached up and wiped the tears coming down her cheeks and smiled at her watery smile. "It's up to you. Okay?"

"…You…you mean that?"

Pan was up and next to her before she could ask again. "Of course he means it." She knew better than anyone else that Yamcha didn't just say things to say them. She was still of the opinion that he was insane considering that he'd taken her on and won the ultimate battle when he claimed her as his own. "I may not be his kid by blood, but he's a pretty good stepdad." He had to be. Everything that had occurred was too binding for her to think otherwise. She had siblings now…these two little creatures that were going to grow up around some of the strangest, strongest, outrageous people she knew and how fair was it for Sierra to miss out on that because of her mom's unknown reasoning?

Sierra's smile toward Pan fell. Pan didn't understand it. She started to ask what was wrong when she noticed that Sierra had stiffened right alongside Yamcha glaring sideways at the door. Everyone was focused on the door, even Gohan—her father was ready to force himself out of the bed if necessary. It hadn't been closed. It tended to find its way shut on its own but it hadn't closed. Pan wondered why but she quickly got an answer when a woman who could easily be one of the more beautiful people of this world stepped into their sight.

* * *

Part 1 of a 2 part update.


	21. The past comes a knocking (Natalie)

**Chapter 21:** The past comes a knocking (Natalie)

**AN:** _If you want to understand why I have Natalie in italics, listen to the song Natalie by Bruno Mars._

* * *

She was the epitome of what men dared to dream for and only a few who were lucky enough could ever land if on a chance in the deepest of hells. She was shapely, somewhat tall but no taller than any man in the room. Her bust line looked as if it never saw gravity and her waist—Chi-chi and Videl deliberately didn't look. She wasn't paying them any mind. Her jade colored eyes were on Sierra sitting stiffly in that chair and Yamcha already up on his feet and growling?

Never in the existence of knowing Yamcha had anyone ever heard him growl like he was at this very moment. It was loud and threatening, like that of a feral dog desperate enough to risk his neck for what was his to own even if it was menial. Technically it wasn't a far stretch from the truth. If he stood there long enough they were sure that they were going to find a version of Yamcha they'd never seen before. The whole scene was so unsettling that Pan didn't even feel Sierra's hand grip her own hand in a death hold. She was too busy being rooted to her spot, gaping and willing her heart to stop jackhammering in her chest as she tried to regain some composure. She didn't know what was more frightening; Yamcha like this or the fact that both of Sierra's parents were in the room without killing one another.

"Chi-chi…is the floor shaking?"

Chi-chi didn't answer Videl. She was too busy trying to ignore why the floor was shaking. If he came here now, there was going to be hell on earth. "Goten, go to your father's room and STALL him," she ordered. "I'll take care of this."

Goten quickly rushed to do as he was asked, slipping by the woman without a backwards glance. She appeared startled by it, but not enough to keep her attention off of Yamcha steadily growing more irate with every passing second. She ignored the sharp shift in power coming from somewhere else in the building, but she couldn't ignore the sudden increase she felt coming from the man that wanted to snap her neck.

Chi-chi was the only one keeping him from it. She stood between the two with her hand pressed against Yamcha's chest and the other one warding that woman from coming any closer.

"I suppose…you want answers."

Answers? Supposed? Yamcha didn't keep the glow from his eyes as he stared her down. "What could you possibly tell me to make any of this shit right?!" he roared. "You've kept my DAUGHTER from ME, had me BELIEVE HER TO BE DEAD for YEARS…and NOW YOU BRING ME ANSWERS!?"

His voice was enough to shake the walls and further entice the power coming from the other side of the hospital to visit quickly. Yamcha ignored it. If he was to come he would come and he'd deal with it then. Right now his focus was on keeping close the tight knot in his chest that grew hotter the longer he was forced to keep some of his sanity.

She had the good grace to look away but not enough sense to be quiet. "I hoped I'd never have to do this…because I really didn't want to ever see your face again." The soft honest retort didn't help matters any and neither did the way she casually looked over at her daughter frozen up in absolute terror. "But I suppose I didn't have a choice on either front."

"Nerys—"

Let it never be said that Chi-chi didn't know how to keep her cool. She hadn't moved once but to keep Yamcha from doing something stupid. However, the same couldn't be said about Videl who caught the reference as clear as day and proved WHY her daughter was her daughter when her own temper erupted. She was across the room and in Nerys's face, shoving the busty woman out of the room and onto the floor with a shove that could have easily put her through the wall. She didn't know that, but the others did which is the only reason Trunks scrambled to keep Videl from reminding everyone whose daughter she was.

Nerys, clearly shocked from being accosted, could only stare up at the woman looking down at her in contempt. "How dare you—"

Videl shut her up with a finger pointed directly in the center of her face. "Listen here bitch, and listen GOOD," she growled, "The last three days have been trying and I've just about reached what little patience I have for anyone who is an IDIOT. Do you NOT know the laws?! Do you not FEEL it coming to wring your neck!?"

"I've NO ALPHA—"

"But HE DOES. You're in HIS territory and CHALLENGING his SECOND IN FRONT OF HIS MATE WHO JUST GAVE BIRTH TO AN ALPHA and a DOMINANT BETA. Are you **_fucking_**** insane**?!"

"You don't know me bitch!"

"I don't WANT to know you! But I'll be damned if you think about causing any trouble for my family without getting a fist in your pretty face!"

Trunks wrestled her from the doorway and back into the room. She went kicking to get back at Nerys, promising to do some serious rearranging to her face without the help of a doctor. It went without say that she was unwelcome, not that she didn't realize it or acknowledge it. She got up again and brushed off her jeans, glaring into the room and at her daughter tentatively coming to stand next to Yamcha.

"So…you wanted to find him so bad that you'd run away from home." Sierra flinched and backed away, ducking her head as he nervously wrung her fingers in her hands. It didn't stop Nerys from coming back into the room, ignoring the pressure at the back of her skull and before her. She'd always been defiant in nature, even when it came to the natural order of things. She was a trespasser in a room that was clearly pack, but her blood was mingled within it so she had some right to march through and take what was hers. "I told you leave it alone, but you just wouldn't listen!" She did just that, snatching her daughter by the wrist and yanking her forward. "WHY are you so damn disobedient?!"

Nerys half expected Sierra to keep quiet, but she wasn't prepared for her daughter to yank her hand right back. "Maybe because you're a fucking LIAR MOM!" The words were like knives, stabbing her to the point of uselessness and staring openly at her daughter snarling at her with the same glow that belonged to her father. "All this time…all this time you lied…you told him I was dead! WHY? Why can't you just tell the fucking truth for once?"

"Don't you **dare**—"

"What mom? WHAT?! This is NOTHING different than what we always DO…only you're SOBER this time."

"Yeah? Well guess what? You're MY DAUGHTER. NOT HIS. You don't get to choose who you stay with because you aren't of age, and I sure as hell am not letting you stay with him!"

"I never said—"

"Then why would you seek him out?! What other reason is there to leave home? Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want him knowing about you for a reason!? You didn't need him growing up and you sure as hell don't need him now!"

The argument that should have gone on died with the fire in Sierra's eyes. Terror returned and she was behind her father and pressing her face into his back as she fought not to tremble. Yamcha deflated and let his ire linger in the back of his head. The tight hot knot in the base of his stomach loosened itself a little but not enough to reign in everything he'd unleashed. He reached behind him and tried to calm Sierra, taking his eyes off of Nerys and what triumph she held in her eyes. She was so full of her short lived victory that she never felt the pressure of what stood at her backside until it was too late to move from the hand that yanked her shirt back and tossed her forward.

"Are you kidding me right now!?"

Nerys stumbled but kept herself from hitting the floor again. She straitened and turned, and found herself face to face with another female, a doctor, one that ripped off the glasses from her face and held nothing but contempt in her eyes when she took on the scene for herself. Sharon stepped into the room, not as a doctor, but as a woman who had just about enough of the strange shit that was going on and of the people who were upsetting what should have been a happy occasion. She had yet to have words with that blue haired menace but this woman…this person glaring at her like she was competition…she was in such deep shit that she didn't even know how dead she was.

"I thought that other woman was an imbecile," she growled softly, "but you…you my dear, have to be the stupidest person in the entire fucking world right now." Nerys snarled at her for that and Sharon snarled right back. "I'm going to tell you this ONCE. LEAVE."

"You have no ownership of me!" Nerys spat. "I'm here to claim what is mine by right!"

"You are here to claim ownership of a daughter that you've kept from her father. She's not property."

"She's MINE and I am NOT leaving here without her!"

Sharon's biting words sitting on the end of her tongue remained where they were. She quickly looked back and sidestepped, swept up into the arms of her mate rushing in to keep her out of harm's way while another doctor darted in and yelled for everyone to get out of the way with Goten skidding into the room seconds before everything came to a head.

Nerys didn't know what slammed into her face until it was much too late to avoid it. She wasn't accosted physically, albeit she was hunched over as if someone had slammed their fist into her gut. Her face remained upright, eyes trained on the red furred monster standing in the doorway breathing like fire would erupt from his mouth if he spoke. He wasn't the one that she backed away from. Her arms wrapped around her like a vice and her knees weak like gelatin on a hot day, she wobbled and dropped to her knees when the smaller of the two powers in the doorway walked into the room.

Vegeta was not a happy camper. He let the entire world—everyone in the room really—know that he was not amused by the disturbance within their group with the slow unraveling of his tail from around his waistline. He was not the threat, however. He was the mediator, the one that held the tight leash on the blind rage that was his mate standing so still in the back that it would be easy to believe that he was a furry prop meant to be a joke. Props didn't breathe. They didn't shift uneasily or threaten bodily harm to anyone who was threatening the sanctity of their pack and their family. They didn't keep an array of doctors and wary officers at bay with waiting tranquilizers because those people didn't know what would set off the Alpha. They certainly didn't snarl at the main cause of disruption within their short lived peace either.

"What…the hell…is going on?"

Everyone clamored to answer the question but stopped short when Vegeta held up his hand and pointed at the one face that didn't expect his attention. Sierra made a noise of protest, shocked beyond reason, but Yamcha's calming hand on her shoulder kept her from freaking out completely. She timidly stepped out of his shadow and into the limelight of Vegeta's unwavering attention and demand for an answer that technically stemmed from her arrival yesterday.

Vegeta listened. To the whole horrid tale. Sierra managed to get the gist of it out between stammers and bouts of silence, but the tale was still the same when she finished and ducked back behind her father. Yamcha thought she had been dead. This woman, Nerys, thought it best to run from him and hide their daughter under the guise of death. Sierra had come here, on her own—a sure sign of her forced independence—and sought out the father she'd never known and confirmed for herself that her mother had played the strings in this orchestrated tale that would see no resolution until someone was dead.

It rubbed Vegeta wrong in so many ways that his silence was unnerving to everyone in the room. Even Nerys was nervous, but she stood up anyway. The cold fact was that she was in the middle of this weird group of people, a pack within their own right conformed of a sure were and another species that dominated the pack. She didn't know what the Alpha was, didn't understand it, but he was powerful, unyielding, and pissed off. Rather than wait for the inevitable mauling, she reached to grab Sierra again.

"Do…you know…what it is like…growing up…without knowing your mother or father?"

Her hand stopped shy of her daughter. His words were so soft that she almost didn't hear them but the weight under them froze her in her spot.

Vegeta wouldn't look at her. He didn't want to. She turned back to him and realized in horror that the Alpha had come closer. His attention was all on his mate, the same one that kept talking as if she weren't there but was well aware of her presence. "Do you know…what it's like to grow up without a mother? Without a father? To think you were unwanted…that someone who is supposed to love and cherish you has ultimately declared you to be worthless? A **mistake**?"

"...I don't…understand…"

"You don't understand? How fucking simple are you? You're the bell of the ball, right?" She flinched. Her discomfort did nothing to make him look at her. His jaw was tight, set to the side, a memory fluttering upward from a painful place that sunk knives into the air and stabbed everyone with the sharpest points. "The one who is always WANTED by everyone, the one who never lacks for company…you're the one who is the center of attention and you never want to be unnoticed. Unnoticed makes you weak…worthless…and then you're another face. Someone who isn't worth the time or effort…kind of like your parents want you to believe."

"I never—"

"My parents didn't do that to me. My father wasn't a loving man, but he cared enough to die for me…and I forgot that when some asshole played mind games with me…and I was and still am a broken fucked up mess…but," Vegeta said looking up at the concerned features of his mate, "At least I don't have to prove anything to anyone anymore. I'm really fucking lucky...and I think you were, too, at one point. You were just too stupid to see it…and now your daughter is suffering."

It felt like her lungs were on fire. She took one breath, and another, and then another when she couldn't find the words to undo the ties around her neck. "All I want is to leave with **my** daughter."

"I know."

"Then—"

"Because you're a shitty parent…and from one shitty parent to another, just let her decide what she wants." He looked briefly at his son and daughter hanging in the background. His son understood it a little too well and his daughter, she forgave him despite his short comings and still called him father. They still loved him, and that was a lot more than he would ever ask of them considering their history. He wasn't even supposed to have sired them, but they were here and willing to adapt to his circumstances…as fucked up as they were before. Their silent support told volumes, and it was easier for him to say, "Chances are that she probably has learned a thing or two about life without you, and from watching you."

She didn't and couldn't possibly know what he spoke about, but most of the others did and grew quiet at his admittance and acceptance of his life, his regrets, and his failures. He was not a role model. He was not the saiyan of the year. He wasn't a person without his scars, and he still had a lot to work through…but he could do that now, freely, because of a right handed shove to his head three months ago from a loveable idiot that still messed up now and again as well. They'd mess up again, and he was sure than their fights would be extraordinary, but he was willing to take that and everything good that would come before and after.

It was a point that was driven home in such a way that Nerys forgot she was supposed to breathe. The first instinctual inhale of air for the sake of survival startled her so much that she didn't even realize the world was a blurred mess and she was bowing her head in submission. It was a little too late to undo the damage. In that type of a world, bowing meant submission, and while that didn't mean she was pack—not that anyone here would allow it—she had conceded defeat to the alpha's mate and by proxy, the Alpha.

The red fur and sharp yellow gaze fell away like water on ice. With Goku no longer a threatening menace of fur and sharp teeth, the doctors outside and the officers sighed in relief. Vegeta knew him a little better than that. He was still pissed, but he was relatively calmer in sight than he was inside. Nerys had made the mistake of walking into the lion's den uninvited and she had to answer for it.

It was the way things worked in his community, no matter what species one happened to be.

Gohan groaned in discomfort. His hands flew to his chest and he winced at the tenderness of his chest telling him in no uncertain terms that it was time to feed the babies. Yamcha didn't need to be told. He motioned to Sharon to get the babies and wordlessly told everyone else who wasn't welcome to get out.

Dorian took it upon himself to escort Nerys out of the room. Had it been his wife…well, she had a lot of misplaced anger to vent and as much as he disliked the woman, she didn't deserve to be the ultimate outlet for his mate. Nerys went with her head bowed, but she made the horrible mistake of glancing backward before the doorway was shut.

Sierra hadn't left. She'd stayed and was yanked into Yamcha's embrace to sob quietly as he tried his best to calm her nerves. She was a sobbing blubbering mess that didn't know how to stop rubbing her face red with her hands, but he didn't scold her for that or warn her off of red eyes or puffy cheeks. He pulled away to kiss her forehead, dried her tears with caring hands, and said something so low that it was impossible for anyone but them to hear…but it made Sierra laugh and hug him all over again.

She didn't remember the last time Sierra had hugged her.

She didn't remember the last time her daughter…had even…smiled like that at anyone…let alone her.

The sickening drop of her stomach was amplified when Sharon came back several minutes later with a bassinette pushed behind her by another nurse. There were not one, but two babies in that crib actively fussing from the disturbance in the air. Once they were inside the room, the Alpha closed the door, meeting her gaze for a flicker of a second and dismissing her as an Alpha would in a situation like this.

She sat heavily on the bench outside of the room.

Dorian sat next to her and handed her a tissue. "So…should I state the obvious, or are you going to come clean to him about Sierra?" She snatched the tissue and wiped at her face, cursing silently about running mascara. "There's only two reasons a mother would keep their child from their father…and I'm pretty sure it's not because she's an omega…is it."

"She's a beta," she muttered. "I…I had her tested. She's not an omega…but her brother was."

"…was?"

The door opened again, and this time she didn't have the energy to get up and run from the person in front of her now. Sharon sidestepped out of the way of the Alpha accompanied by Yamcha, staring at her like she had committed the ultimate sin. In a way, in many ways, she had. Drinking herself stupid didn't erase it, and trying to take her daughter back wasn't going to undo the damage of years of trying to forget it all.

She swallowed thickly, wiping her face again and ignoring the irritating urge to scream aloud. She never could stop herself from inhaling the scent of him…or keep her eyes from his burning ones when he lowered himself to her level and urged her to stop being a jerk about this. It was a nice way of telling her to stop being an asshole, one she laughed at bitterly as she rubbed her nose with a loud sniff.

"…when I found out…when I found out that I was…expecting…I didn't…I didn't want it." The truth from her lips tasted like rancid curdled milk sitting in the sun for days. She didn't like it, and she hated that she couldn't change the way she felt or that Yamcha's face fell. "I didn't…know how to tell you…and I couldn't just…end the pregnancy. You were…really happy…and I found myself hating it…hating her. THEM."

"…so you…decided to up and leave?" Yamcha asked tiredly, "And just let me think whatever I want?"

"…It…was easier. I didn't want…and I **still**…don't want your attention on anyone else but me. I thought being away from you would…rid me of that want…but then I had sierra…and her twin died in utero….and all I could do then was hate you…because you didn't come after me."

Yamcha shook his head. "So it's **my** fault then?"

"…No, but…I couldn't….I couldn't just come back…"

"Yeah, you could have…once." Nerys thought her chest would burst from that small admission and then sink in itself when Yamcha averted his gaze back the partially open door where they could hear the gushing praise over the two babies being fussed over properly by the ones that would care for them and protect them when he was no longer able to. He had lost so much once…but he had much to gain from his loss, much more than he'd hoped to believe.

"You could have come back…but there's no room for you here now, even with Sierra here."

Anything he could have felt for her was gone, and she couldn't help but see it in spades. He'd slammed the book shut on that which was them a very long time ago, and found a mate that made him look the way he had once felt towards her. The ice of realization dropped in the bucket of her misery and left her cold, tired, and disgusted that she wanted to find the closest liquor store and drink herself to death.

"I think I've heard enough for one day." He stood up again and brushed his pants absently, no longer interested in the rest of the explanation, the who, the where, and the whys. He was still angry. He still had that knot settled in the center of his chest…but it wasn't quite as pressing or as big as it had been moments ago. "We'll talk about this later…and you're **not** going to fight me on this."

"She can't. Even if she wanted to," Dorian supplied. "Honestly, what she did is a crime in the community, and as she has no Alpha, she has no standing ground to contest the conditions under which she hid Sierra from you. Unfortunately, she's one of those narcissistic mothers who can't stand the thought of their children gaining more attention from their partners than themselves…" She sneered at the implication, but did not deny it. She didn't have a drink in her hand to deny it for a little while and she's had sixteen years to accept it. Dorian dared her to do otherwise. She turned her head away from his. "It's too common of an issue with underlying causes, but I'm not a shrink or anything of the like."

"Then why are you explaining this?" she snapped.

"Why? So the Alpha in front of us doesn't snap your neck."

"I'm not going to snap her neck," Goku groaned as she stiffened. He really didn't have a problem dressing a woman down when she was in his face—current situation with Bulma unresolved but pending—but he wasn't some jerk faced Alpha that would smack a woman for the hell of it, or snap her neck. If she were a male, a punch to the face would suffice, but she wasn't, and it looked as if Videl had given her a run for her money from what he'd heard briefly back in the room. "Frankly, I don't want her here."

"You act like I wanted to be here!" Nerys growled. "All I wanted was to leave with Sierra!"

"The same girl you didn't want and now want to take back because you can't share like a grown up or act like one? Please, don't make me sick," he sighed. "It's unbecoming."

"You're **not** my alpha!"

"No, but I am Yamcha's Alpha." He clapped his second's shoulder with his hand. "I couldn't ask for a more loyal man to be my second, and my mate is right. You were too stupid to see a good thing when it was in front of you…and my son benefited for it. In a weird way…I should thank you."

"You…you fucking bastard! What right do you have to speak of anything?!"

She was expecting him to bark back something, but she was utterly unprepared for the twin stares settled on her as if she was the stupidest person that had ever graced their senses. Even Dorian groaned like his IQ was rapidly dropping. "I swear…my brain can't take this shit."

"What the hell are you going on about?!"

"You, submitted to the Alpha's MATE you idiot," Sharon snapped. She'd remained quiet long enough for her tastes and she was two steps away from slapping some sense into someone today. "It's a secondary way of submitting to an Alpha and you've already walked into his territory uninvited. You damn well know that if you had done so with those babies in the room, your life would have been forfeited and he could have killed you. Because you submitted to someone in his pack, you no longer have a right to declare what is private business and what is public knowledge."

"He just denied it though!"

"Because he's right. He isn't YOUR alpha…by **choice**."

Yamcha read the situation for what it was and shook his head at Goku. "I draw the line at her being **anywhere** near my family."

Goku nodded in agreement. That would be a pain and unnecessary drama like that black makeup staining Nerys' cheeks. "I'll extend an invitation for Sierra to visit when she likes," he said instead of the barb itching to be free of him. "And you two can decide what you want to do to keep in touch. Her mother won't be allowed to accompany her unless everyone in the pack is all right with it, and that's if Sierra extends that invite."

Nerys reeled back in shock. "Don't I get a say in all this?!"

Goku silenced her in the same manner he tended to silence everyone with. He let a piece of that beast out, irritated to the point of cracking something ominously with his tail. The wall didn't thank him for it.

* * *

"Oh my goodness, look at how big he is," Chi-chi cooed as she tenderly took her napping grandson into her arms. He wasn't as hungry as they thought he would be, going to sleep right away when he was in the company of his mother and his surrounding family. Chi-chi just about vibrated out of her skin when they wheeled the babies into the room. She was in instant grandma mode, grabbing the hand sanitizer and whatever else she needed to clean her hands before she was falling in love at the twins snoring or gurgling up at her. The nurse handed Gohan his daughter, and then handed Chi-chi her new grandson.

She might have shed a tear or three as she laughed at his uncaring attitude as he slept on. "He's looks so much like his daddy," she laughed. "I'm sure Yamcha is thrilled to have a little clone."

"Yamcha's totally going to spoil him rotten," Videl grinned. She leaned over and couldn't keep herself from reaching out and fingering all those curls on his sister's hair as she greedily sucked down her meal without premise. "His sister's a little cutie pie! I'm sure he's never going to let her see the light of day when she's grown up. She's going to be a real beauty."

"Like her sisters."

It took a moment for Sierra to realize she was included in that statement. She blushed, smiling bashfully at Chi-chi's outright acceptance despite having known her for only a few moments. An arm snaked its way around her shoulders. Pan grinned, a light blush on her face as well. "I'm not used to being called a beauty," she admitted. "I'm more of a tomboy."

Sierra grinned as well. "Me too."

"I think any father is like that about their daughters," Gohan chuckled. "Yamcha gets this funny look on his face when I mention Pan going out on dates. It's like I'm telling him the world is on fire."

"You may as well have said that instead," laughed Goten. "Although I think he's got his hands full now with being a father four ways, right Trunks?"

The purple haired youth belatedly looked up. "Huh? Yeah, yeah sure." He put his hands back where they were, as a resting post for his head as he looked outside at the clear day that did nothing to lay claim to the craziness that had occurred several moments ago, a few hours ago, and possibly a few weeks ago. Goten waited for the rest of his monologue, his joking, or something else to come from Trunks, but the slightly older male settled deeper into his silent funk and ignored the looks thrown his way.

Vegeta wasn't a stranger to a brood when he saw one. He'd been the poster child for them, and temper tantrums amongst a host of things, and while he denied that his son was anything like him in regards to several aspects of life, one thing he had inherited, unfortunately, that was ability to sulk in the open in silence as if he was sitting in all seriousness. It was a telling sign that something was troubling the youth, but it couldn't have been the celebration of the babies. Babies had this obnoxious sixth sense about these things, especially saiyan babies. They would have been screaming their heads off. Vegeta remembered that much about his own race if anything. Saiyans didn't tolerate ill will in their presence at a young age. They tended to do one of two things…and thankfully there was no moon.

If it wasn't the babies—Vegeta turned to his daughter trying her best not to look too concerned about her brother. She met his gaze. A single digit pointed to a word in a magazine she held loosely in her hand. **_Girlfriend._** Trunks didn't have a girlfriend. The boy was so smitten with Gohan at one point unknowingly and then again with Goten—which was so obvious it hurt. He felt bad for his son in that respect. The Son sons (why did that even exist?) were a bit like their dad when it came to being damn near annoyingly irresistible.

She flicked her gaze toward Goten easily and shoved her finger at the word again.

It made sense…and he was not about to slap his forehead.

**Vegeta? What's the matter.**

Vegeta covered his open snort with a soft cough. What was the matter? Really? Besides having his mate in his head so openly? Oh, nothing much. **_My boy is sulking because Goten has a girlfriend._**

Goku's thoughts paused at that. **Wow…Okay. He's getting good at keeping things to himself.**

**_Of course he is. He's your son._**

The mark on his neckline warmed. It was damn near impossible not to smile at the pride beaming from that overgrown softie outside of the room now. They would talk about this later. Right now the remaining doctor in the room was making a show of cooing over those babies just as badly as Videl and Chi-chi and it had the rest of the room in quiet hysterics that involved Sierra giggling uncontrollably in her seat with Pan's face dropped on her shoulder in an effort not to laugh as hard as she wanted. The tears in her eyes were proof enough that it was becoming a futile attempt to keep quiet, and it was much too much when that doctor all but squealed like a girl meeting some boy band in person.

Vegeta still didn't understand the screaming girls did when they liked something. But it was funny enough to make him drop his stoic face for a moment.

"I told my sister these babies would be the most adorable things ever," the doctor laughed. "I should have bet her money! I would have totally WON money from her and I could have died happy."

"Your sister?" Chi-chi asked. "She's a doctor here?"

"She just walked out of the room. Oh, pardon my rudeness." He stuck out his hand for her to shake with her free one when she shifted her grandson to lie in her left arm. "My name's Tyler Grant. I'm Gohan's regular OB/GYN, and my sister is Sharon Reed. Why we're in the same field, I don't know…but I suppose it might be owed to being twins."

"Sharon is…your twin?"

"Hard to believe right?"

No. Not really. Sharon was a smaller petite thing that had a mess of brown hair that she tied back in a bun and dressed like she was going to a business meeting under the lab coat she wore. She was feisty—they'd seen as much in her rants—and she was a sure match for any male that tried to challenge her through the art of words. This guy…this guy who had run into the room right before Goten and stood near Dorian and Sharon during the dressing down of that woman Nerys…he was a dark haired lanky man in a suit that needed a press, a shave from the five o'clock shadow making its way into a beard, and very laid back.

He was also a dominant Beta, one that was very at ease with everyone else in the room despite the other two male betas. They were dominants within their own rights, Goten more so now since he sought the company of a female, but Trunks didn't notice or care really.

Vegeta sucked at this kind of thing…the open comforting…but he attempted to do so anyhow. He reached out and patted his son on the shoulder and got an armful of his son snuffling into his stomach. He wasn't crying (thank the heavens), and he wasn't upset. He was snatching comfort where he could get it and he'd deemed Vegeta worthy enough to give that comfort. It was a testament to their relationship as it stood now…and Vegeta was **not** entertaining the thought of wondering what it would have been like to be Trunk's mother. His life was already strange enough, thank you!

"Your boy?" Tyler asked.

Vegeta nodded once. "He's usually…not like this."

"Is he upset about something?"

"….kind of?"

"Well then, we're going to have to take care of that with a sure fire cure."

There was no warning. Had there have been, Vegeta was sure that he would have been an anchor to hold onto. One moment he was patting his son on the back of his shoulders, the next he was watching his son being hauled to his feet by a smiling exuberant doctor who looked like he needed several hours of sleep but ran like a man well rested. Trunks—speechless from the sudden displacement—yelped at the hands taking his own and the sudden fragrant smell of male making it hard to think.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. You're coming with me to get coffee."

"Coffee?!"

"Yes, that magical drink that is awesome in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night when people like to give birth because babies hate you."

"…babies hate you?"

"Yes. Because they come at night and I don't sleep in my bed."

"….I'm confused."

"All the more reason for coffee. Let's go."

Trunks had no choice but to go, because Tyler was dragging him out of the room with a firm, "We'll be back!" drifting backwards as they vanished.

Sharon peered into the room. "Why is my brother dragging that guy behind him? Did something happen?"

They didn't know and they didn't want to ask. As far as everyone was concerned, it was just another weird thing to add to the list of odd shit that happened in the past day.

* * *

No, I don't know where I'm going with this. (lies)

I totally do not have a plan about this. (truth)

If you want more...well, I need inspiration. (lies wrapped in truth).

And yes...I do not apologize for popping some hopes. (lies)


	22. And you need not worry

**AN:**

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and kept up with me. (generic opening)

Before you read this, I'd like to say two things.

One...to every person who has had a shitty parent in their life messing shit up for the sake of themselves, I'm sorry your parent is like that and I hope you realize you are not a mistake and that you are here for a reason. Don't buy that shit that the condom broke or whatever the hell they told you. Shitty situations with shitty parents do end, but YOU are special, unique, and loved by someone in this world. You are meant to do SOMETHING GREAT and you do not have to be like your parents.

I don't have perfect parents, but they both loved me. My dad has been in heaven since '08 and my mom's still here, so I treasure every moment I have with her.

If you don't have shitty parents, take care of the one's you've got. No parent is perfect and raising kids is a labor of love in most cases.

Just thought I'd put that out there.

Two...this chapter is kind of a wrap up around one situation. We're headed in a slightly different and lighter direction in the next portion of this piece. And yes...YES.

There will be smut coming in the next chapter.

Until I've finished that masterpiece, enjoy this lighthearted fluff...while I decide if I want to destroy the world or something.

What? Don't judge me. (personal opening)

* * *

**Chapter 22:** And you need not worry

Gohan had been through a lot in his life. He'd been through a lot more than any sane person had been and lived to tell about it. He hadn't really died but once or twice, but he was never gone long enough to really contemplate the other side of things and what it was like to live without physical pain.

"Babe?"

When he'd been subjected to that first god awful punch from Piccolo while training, he hadn't known what to think. It hurt, but it didn't hurt enough for him not to get back up and complain about it. It was one of his first lessons in growing up, a lesson that he took with him when he was facing off against freaks like Frieza, Cell, and that asshole Spopavich. When he'd been subjected to a series of bone crunching punches and a volley of ki blasts that resulted in a fight that lasted much too long for any sane or normal person, Gohan had gotten back up and walked, and ran, and flew after the asshole who had tried to take him out. When he was involved in one of the many world ending fights that had plagued his life, he took a beating and got back up knowing that he was in pain but he hadn't given a flying shit about it.

"Easy now…easy…"

"I'm fine…I…aah!"

"You are **not** fine…and that's **okay**."

Was it? Was it really? He finally, FINALLY, stood up straight and stared at his mate supporting him around his waist and with one of his arms around Yamcha's neck. There wasn't a look of pity waiting for him. It was open concern, and love, and Gohan wished he had the capacity to hate his mate for knowing what he needed when he was not in the best of moods. He got kissed on his nose for his grouchiness, not that Gohan could help it right now. He was standing up…and standing up was hell. HELL. All capitals.

"I cannot believe that happened…" he groaned tiredly. "I thought the worst of it was over…"

"At least it won't happen again," Yamcha reassured. "I've heard of this happening before though, so you're not alone."

No, he most certainly wasn't alone, but he wasn't going to find a support group for people who were in his situation just to bitch about it some more. He wanted it over and done, and taking that first step had him singing a whole new tune about pain. His chest was chaffing against his shirt, his legs felt like they would give out any second, and his hips…hell, someone could call him Shakira because his hips didn't lie now about the sheer amount of PAIN radiating from being displaced and widened because he'd given birth to the two most precious things in his life right now.

With a great amount of effort, he gingerly sat in the wheelchair waiting for him, relieved, glad to be off of his feet, and not looking forward to getting into the car.

"And I thought settling pains sucked," Gohan moaned. "For once, I'm willing to stay in bed."

"Which you should, for about a week," Tyler said.

It was later in the afternoon. Tyler Grant, their usual doctor and the one who had gleefully broken the news to them about the twins during their first sonogram, looked marginally better after two cups of coffee and a nap he grabbed in his down time. He was actually due to be off shift as soon as they were discharged but remained long enough to make sure that Gohan was healthy and the babies were healthy as well. Everything looked fine from the outside at first. The babies, already determined to be an Alpha and a Dominant Beta, were less than happy about getting their first shots and being measured and weighed. It didn't take long for them to be calmed down. The sure promise of food and a good nap had them tuckered out enough to be clothed, swaddled, and declared officially discharged from the care of the nursery.

Gohan, on the other hand, had been stuck in the bed for the entire time he was here. He was in desperate need of a shower and said as much when Tyler had begun to examine him next. Yamcha was close by as always, his eyes watchful but trusting of the dominant beta tending to his mate. Tyler had always been professional, reassuring them that things were fine whenever they were concerned and always taking that extra step to make sure that they were both comfortable with what he was doing. He always asked Yamcha as well as Gohan if it was okay to do something, talked them both through whatever he needed to do, and never gave off any sign that he was unsettled by how close Yamcha tended to get sometimes. Mates needed to be close to one another, and it was highly usual for a male doctor to be taking care of a male submissive because of…tendencies.

Tyler was more interested in being entertaining than dramatic, especially when he declared that yes, Gohan definitely needed a shower and instructed him to get out of the bed and do so before the smell killed them all. He was kidding of course, but Gohan was ready to jump out of the bed and do so with relish.

He found out the hard way that his hips didn't want to cooperate. He nearly howled in agony when he threw his legs over the side of the bed and all but planted himself backwards to slap his hands over his mouth. His vision whited out and he focused on breathing, his mate's worried cries for him to tell him what was wrong doing nothing to stop that ungodly sharp flare of fire radiating throughout his hips. Tyler was quickly moving to see what the problem was and found it quickly enough with a light pelvic exam.

Gohan didn't get his shower. He got a sponge bath and a diagnosis of extended hips, a common occurrence in males who could conceive.

The good doctor that had come late to the party was taking notes in his chart, all smiles but diligent about his work. He looked up briefly and grinned at Gohan. "Your hips need time to adjust to what they've been through. Honestly, your pelvis shouldn't have allowed for you to do what you did in record time. It should have widened over the course of your pregnancy, but your physiology isn't exactly like a human's or a were's, so I believe your body did what it had to do and now it's resetting itself."

"And he can't take anything to help?" Yamcha asked.

"Nothing too strong. Some Aleve might help, but ultimately, rest. So, you're going to have to be the running man '**_daddy'_**."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

He pointed needlessly in the direction of the door. "Obviously. You have all of them waiting to help out."

Indeed, their entire family was waiting on them with their hands full of gifts, bags, the babies, or one another. Chi-chi and Videl had a full handle on the babies, their son tucked away in the gray and blue car seat in Chi-chi's hands and their daughter settled comfortably in the pink and gray one in Videl's. The two women were completely ecstatic about going home and spoiling those babies rotten for the first couple of hours. It brought back a lot of memories, fond ones when they looked at their own children, grown, getting there, or rearing their own children. It was possibly the oddest moment to call their happiest, but neither woman would change a thing.

Pan and Bra were loaded down with gifts the proud parents had received somewhere in the midst of all the drama, some from the staff, others from their family. The girls stood next to one another, no longer tense in the same space but still somewhat silent. This whole situation muted their little spat considerably, and if either one was thinking along the same lines, this was dumb now and they needed to get over it. It was a little harder than that. Pan was still a prideful person, and hurting a friend—a sister, really—wasn't in life's good book of drama that comes along. Apologizing was even harder. Bra was too much like her father on the front that she didn't forgive that easily, and mixed in with her mother's temperament, things would die down in her heart within their own time. Pan wasn't going to rush it and Bra wasn't in a rush to bring it up, but they silently agreed to be civil for the sake of the new babies.

Goten had Gohan's things in hand, not that much of it had been of use except for the changes of clothing. Books to read, different teas to calm Gohan, an inflatable birthing ball (seriously, his mother tended to be overkill when she was involved) and other items; one would think that he was going on vacation. This was hardly a vacation. Goten would swear it was a little bit of heaven from the way Yamcha and Gohan seemed to glow on their own. He would have nudged Trunks in the side, his go to gesture when he was poking fun, but his best friend was nowhere near him at the moment.

Trunks was probably the only one who was empty handed, but that was because he currently had one coffee in hand, placed there by Tyler when he'd come back to do a final check-up on the twins and Gohan. It was his second coffee, the first gone hours ago when he'd been dragged out of the hospital and over to a nearby coffee shop Tyler adamantly swore by and claimed he needed to live in since he came here every day. Trunks wouldn't have believed him if the owners hadn't popped up with his order in hand and then handed him one for Trunks with a wink. Tyler paid, offered his heartfelt thanks—he literally hugged the broad man who gave him the cup and kissed his petite wife on the cheek like a good son to a mother—and dragged Trunks, their coffee, and the bewilderment back into the hospital to sit down some place quiet and away from babies that hated Tyler.

It was very confusing, more so when Tyler had finished his coffee and asked Trunks if he was all right. Trunks hadn't known what to say, and he hadn't said anything…not that he could. Tyler had flicked the end of his nose playfully and said, "Now you have something else to focus on," which only confused Trunks further.

Right now he was admittedly somewhat hiding near Goku and Vegeta. Tyler leaned back and waved, chuckling when Trunks tried his damnedest to ignore him and stop the red creeping up to his cheeks. He did not like being confused…and he liked it even less when other people caught on to whatever he was missing.

"He's flirting with you."

"…I…I totally knew that!"

"No you didn't," Sierra giggled. "It's okay; I tend not to know when someone's doing it to me either."

He nudged her lightly and let her laugh at him. It was a brighter change from the outright sobbing she'd done not that long ago. Her mother was the cause of it, her admission heard by all with sensitive ears and probably not the brightest thing to do when one was surrounded by people who had that type of ability. Pan had been the one to comfort her with kind words…the kind that had a swear word or three in them and a comparison to a dimwitted monkey with a hammer. Sierra had stopped sobbing then and giggled at the oddness of it all and decided that she'd cried more than she wanted to in her lifetime within the last two days.

Her bag was in hand, as was a gift for the twins in a separate bag she'd purchased from the gift shop. It wasn't much more than two teddy bears, pink and blue, but she really wasn't expecting to walk into this and gaining newborn siblings and a father that wasn't a deadbeat. Life had seriously mixed up that stereotype. Right now her father—it still felt strange to call him that and not feel weird about it—was tending to his mate and her mother was nowhere to be found. She wasn't worried about her mother. Chances were that she was somewhere close by to a bar…which was sad.

Sierra had bought the bears with the intention of giving it to her father before she went back to the bay pack to finish her stay. She was more than welcome to with them knowing about her situation and her mother, and she wasn't against moving with them for a short time. Going back to that place she'd called home for far too long was not an option, not a safe one if she wanted to keep her sanity. Her mother was an okay person in sober moments, but she was more about herself and her image and how things looked in her eyes than anyone else's. Her image was ruined now, thoroughly, and that was partly on Sierra, so it was only best to stay away from a woman who considered her life ruined enough to claim her dead once. Sierra was more than okay with that, and she had been planning to ask to extend her stay, but like a lot of things in life as of late her plans had changed.

"Are you sure about coming to stay with us? We'd understand if you wanted to think about it."

Sierra shook her head at the Alpha asking the question. She didn't know Goku that well, but anyone who dressed her mother down and lived was an okay person in her book. "I'm really glad you extended an invitation to me," she said gratefully. "I'm just sorry I dragged you into this."

"Please," Vegeta snorted. "You just made his day. He's got another student now."

"Student? Me?"

"Oh yeah," Pan grinned. "We're a fighting bunch. Grandpa here takes pride in his family's ability to defend the earth and what not…and we're not half as talented as him or Vegeta or Yamcha."

Sierra blinked at them. "You're all martial artists?"

"Of course! But some of us are out of commission for the moment." Pan winced a little as she noticed her father being wheeled out of the room looking a tad pale and a lot resistant to the thought of getting back up for anything. "Dad, are you all right?"

Gohan grinned a little when Yamcha kissed the top of his head. "I'll be okay when someone tells my hips to stop being assholes."

"Stop being—"

"All right Pan, your daily allotment of swearing has been reached," Videl warned playfully. "Time to start setting a good example for your brother and sister."

"Right, right…hey, when are we going to know their names anyhow?"

"When we get home," Yamcha announced. "I want their names to be announced at home, in comfort, and with good blessings in a place I know they will grow with love."

"And this is why I love you," Gohan sighed playfully. He was kissed again, this time on his cheek as he reached up to caress the face next to him. "You always say the best things."

"More like sappy," Pan gagged. "You guys get any sweeter I'm going to die of diabetes."

Shoved playfully to get moving, Pan relented and walked off to find the entrance/exit to this place. It was hard to believe that it had been a full two days since this madness had started with them running into this place, and now they were walking out of it with two new little lives and another lost life that took it upon herself to find the father that she'd never known. They walked in here a little broken and still trying to figure things out, but now they were leaving united in their thoughts about life, family, and never letting anyone outside of what they knew and fought for destroy the precious parts of their lives that they would never get back.

Pan proudly walked next to Yamcha on his right side, going with the light touch on her head when he reached over to convey his silent pride.

Tyler walked with them until they had gotten to the exit. Sharon and Dorian were waiting for them, alone and dressed in civilian clothing rather than the scrubs and lab coats that they usually lived in. They were all smiles, glad and exited for several reasons, most of them lying within the Alpha coming to stand before them with his mate. The gladness came at the thought of these two walking connected; Goku's arms around Vegeta's smaller frame and acting as if the wound on his chest wasn't a stitched up mess that was a result of someone trying to tear him apart from the inside out. Vegeta willingly remained where he was, comfortable and alive and radiating madly with a bright happiness that couldn't be anything less than the equivalent of a bond that had been rectified successfully…or perhaps never broken at all.

It was so rare to see an Alpha and his or her Omega make it through something like this without one of them dying outright. Bonds were in place for a reason; it was a phenomenon that only they would understand and no one of a lesser title would ever truly get unless they were themselves an Alpha and an Omega. Betas had the luxury of being free to choose, to break their bonds and form new ones, to fall in and out of love and reproduce without the ties of being dependent upon their mate unless they chose to be. It was a free life, one the middle, one that shouldn't be taken for granted by anyone. Alphas and Omegas did not have that freedom, and finding a mate that would not abuse them was rare within itself.

Sharon willed her thundering heart to stop beating so. Goku truly had to love his mate in order to put it all on the line like that, and for his efforts to let his mate choose, he had been wounded in a way that would possibly never heal right. The physical scar would never fade. It would always be there as a reminder of their trials and they were better for it than without it. The mental scars were the same. In a sense he had lost Vegeta, but Vegeta had come back to him and the fright of living without his mate scared him to no ends.

She wished that woman, Bulma, was here to see this…to finally grasp why things were the way they were.

"Doctor Reed?"

"It's Sharon," she chided looking up at the Alpha. "Save the doctor for when you come back for an appointment soon."

Goku's brows raised themselves on their own. "I have appointments to keep?"

"Not now, no…but I'm sure that will change soon enough." She winked Vegeta's way and tried not to laugh at the blush hitting his cheeks. "Regardless, I'm sad to see you go, but I'm happy you're well enough to leave. Don't be strangers, okay?"

"I don't think that will be an issue." Goku glanced sideways at Tyler who was completely ignoring him in favor of snatching Trunks' phone from his pocket and programming his number in it. Trunks was completely out of his depths with this, not sure what to make of the slightly taller and broader man that leaned over him like he was possibly the best thing he'd seen all day when he gave him his phone back and took a sip of his coffee in parting. If Trunks held the half empty cup a little closer to him when Tyler bid him and the rest of them farewell, no one said anything openly about it.

Sharon, not one who usually found herself attached to people who weren't in her pack or family, couldn't stop herself from hugging first Gohan and Yamcha. She knew better than to try and approach Goku and Vegeta on her own, but the Alpha welcomed her attempt and let her hug him from the side. Vegeta wasn't really expecting her attention on him, but she wrapped her arms around him as well and said something soft enough for his ears only. She was out of his range before he could comment on it and wishing them all the best of luck.

Dorian grasped Goku's outstretched wrist. Palms wrapped around one another's arms, a firm shake and solidification of the alliance and friendship they'd come to be within. "You have my assistance should you ever need it."

"You have my fist should you need it," Goku replied in kind. "I'm in your debt."

"**We** are in your debt," Vegeta corrected. He was not one for thanks. He hadn't once before in his life thought that the words "thank you" would ever be sincere coming from his mouth for anything less than a swift death at the hands of an idiot. Today, however, today was a day marked in change, and he couldn't stop himself from bowing his head ever so slightly much to the shock and awe of everyone that knew him inside and out.

"Thank you…for helping bring my mate back to me."

"I think…you're more than deserving of it," Dorian said quietly. "Everyone deserves someone…even if others don't understand the logistics of it. Just take care of your bond…yours is something quite rare and dear, and valued amongst the community." He bowed in kind and stepped back with a bright and kind smile. "May you have many long days upon this planet and with one another."

"Yes, what he said!" Tyler exclaimed from where he was down the hall. "And DON'T forget your appointment in a month or to call me if you have concerns you two! I mean it!"

"Tyler, you have one more hour before I drag your ass out of here myself!" Sharon called. "You promised that you would take a few days off and I mean it damn it!"

"I know sis, and I'm trying to hurry up but if Trunks doesn't call me this weekend I'm staying another shift!"

"What?!" Trunks tried frantically to wave Sharon's glare off of him. "Hey, I'm not involved in this—"

"Trunks…CALL my brother…or else I'm sending him your way and you can deal with forcing him to sleep!"

"I don't—Ah! HEY, okay already!" He rubbed his arm where Bra had punched him. "I'll call him, not that I see why that is valid to anything that's going on around here!"

Tyler ran past them stripping his jacket off. "I'm done." He ducked back and quickly tapped Trunks on his cheek, grinned again, and ran out of the doors yelling for his sister and his brother in law to hurry up because he wanted to go eat and then sleep for a thousand years or so. Sharon and Dorian rolled their eyes, waved goodbye, and left the confused and amused group to head out into the world and right into Krillin popping in with his wife and child in tow.

"Oh, hey, you guys are leaving?"

The Alpha in him resisted rolling his eyes skyward. "Yes," Goku sighed, reaching to turn his longtime friend around and towards the uncapsuled cars waiting on them. "And you're coming with us." He wasn't staying here another moment if he could help it, and he was helping it by shoving everyone into the car before something else could happen or someone else could pop up.

This is why he didn't watch soap operas. His life was one already…minus the dramatic music.

* * *

The drive back was filled with the quiet chatter of Marron being curious about the new girl amongst them and Sierra doing her best to keep up with her exuberant excitement. Pan interjected when she could, but Bra remained silent for reasons Marron didn't quite get. She let it go though, too excited about the drama that had occurred being told to her in the cliff notes version. Pan, while one to dish the details of a good story, didn't want to elaborate or remember half of what went on. It was still too fresh in her mind.

She caught herself looking to the front of the car just to make sure that her grandfather was indeed driving them back home. Goku looked back her way, smiled tiredly and focused on the road.

He fiddled with the radio now and again, fingers easing when he came upon a radio station that wasn't harping about the festivities in town. Goku had forgotten in the midst of his…situation…that he'd destroyed a statue of a man he'd been hunting down for a while now. Apparently the city saw fit to resurrect another statue of him and the media was running with it. If Goku was a spiteful son of a bitch—he was but he didn't have the energy to prove it to himself and others right now—he would have gone back to the park and smashed it all over again just to prove a point. He wasn't usually one to claim credit where credit was due. Usually he was glad to be alive enough to watch that idiot take all the glory.

He was owed though…and a man who owed another with no intentions to pay was much more a fool than a glorified idiot.

A gentle hand that had broken his face once or twice in their lifetime kept hold of his right one. He calmed down and kept his focus on driving, squeezing his mate's trembling hand and cementing the reality of here, now, and going home. The radio played, muting the quiet snuffling snores of the babies not giving a damn about cars, the people in them, or going home. They were comfortable, dry, and fed, and that was probably the most important part for the moment. They were here though, and it was a scary realization that hit home in a way Vegeta never thought he would visit upon openly or wonder at.

The car hit a small bump in the road. The muted gargle of pain was not missed, nor was the soft askance of wellbeing. Gohan was fine. He was and he said so and quieted his distressed mate down with soft touches. Sitting upright was never a problem…

"Damn it…"

…it was the bumps in the road that jostled the car as they were headed back to the outskirts of town. He was promised some type of pain reliever the moment he got into the house, but the ride felt like forever and reminded him a little too much about the recent trial that was giving birth.

He had a love/hate relationship with wanting to do it all over again.

Eventually they made it back. Everyone piled out of the cars and made themselves as useful as they could if they were familiar with the lay of the land and where things went. Yamcha had taken it upon himself to tend to his mate, carefully lifting him out of the car and carrying him bridal style over to where Sierra was standing, a little lost and completely in awe of how big the property was. She didn't stop to linger long. She followed him like a puppy would a child, excited, nervous, and unfamiliar with the lay of the land and the smells with it.

Yamcha had a similar reaction when he'd been invited to live here long ago. Goku had come out of nowhere with a proposal for him to move in. Yamcha hadn't been expecting it. It was so far out of the left field that he thought he was delusional. Goku assured him that he was not with a firm slap on his back and told him that it wasn't the Son home that Yamcha had come to know throughout the years. That should have been the first clue honestly. When Goku had brought him here the first time, Yamcha became a statue and just took it all in.

It was mostly owed to the fact that Goku had purchased the property and that he had that kind of money to do so. He was and would always be a simple man, but he was a simple and frugal man who knew how to manage his money well enough to enjoy the perks in life. This…this piece of property that stretched a lot further than they could see on the ground was his perk, rather, his treat to himself when he tried to bury that need of claiming what was his. It was a futile attempt.

Most houses, even the remote ones, were dome shaped. There were three domes connected to one another, merged like tortoise shells and carved to be functional for a large group of people. The first one they walked into was the communal part of the house, an area that followed a corridor into an open space where the living room resided and things and people were put down and unpacked. Gohan was placed carefully upon one of the couches, made comfortable as possible and left with Sierra to mind him as Yamcha ran to start brewing a remedy he knew would numb the pain for his mate and not interfere with his chemistry. Videl and Chi-chi were left to unpack the newest members of the household.

Sierra had barely sat down when she found her arms full of a gurgling sleeping little girl that opened her eyes long enough to stare, not care, and drift away again.

"She's…so warm," she breathed softly. "Are all babies this warm?"

"I'm starting to believe it," Pan said as she sat down next to her. "It's a little breathtaking, isn't it?"

She might have been robbed a little of her breath, but it came back easily when she laughed at the soft snore that erupted from the baby in her arms. This little life was amazing indeed, and it was off putting at how suddenly easy it was for Sierra to see herself watching them grow up here. She'd been around the block a time or two and she knew things about babies within an established pack. Normally babies were attached to their parents and the immediate family members that were closest to their parents. Siblings didn't have the luxury of being on the approved list of people to hold them without getting fussy, not for a few months at least. Parents usually shoved newborns into their older children's arms for short times to get them used to one another, but the bonding never really settled until babies were older, more alert, and vocal about their displeasure or amusement of things around them.

Her sister—she was not going to cry about this or pay attention to the way her heart just stumbled all over itself in drunken joy when she realized that she had siblings—hadn't made a sound. She just accepted her as if she'd always been here. "She reminds you of her dad, doesn't she…" Sierra nodded profusely and stared at Gohan laughing at her. "What gave it away? The easy laid back acceptance?"

"Honestly yes…" She admitted, "And it's weird because I'm used to parents freaking out when other people hold their kids. I've seen some mothers literally trip out because someone else held their baby…"

"I'm afraid Yamcha was the one tripping out more than Gohan," Chi-chi giggled softly. "He's a rather protective person…he guards what he knows is his closely, sometimes to the point of smothering."

Gohan agreed. Who better to know than his mate? However, "I like being smothered."

"And it's one of the reasons Yamcha and Goku get along so well. They're extremely protective of their loved ones, old or new."

Sierra blushed but hadn't misheard her words or the silent welcome in them. Chi-chi handed off her nameless grandson to Gohan, he eldest and by far the start of a journey she wouldn't have changed for anything and left him, her son, Sierra, pan, and her new princess with a kiss on their forehead. She was off to help Yamcha in the kitchen and to start preparations for dinner. Videl went with her. Two sets of hands that were skilled enough to take on their small army would be faster and keep them occupied long enough to allow whatever talks or explanations needed to take place. They'd been through the majority of it and didn't need to hear any of it again, plus, it was late enough in the day that lunch was gone, emotions were still a little raw, and hunger was always sure to follow odd heart to heart talks.

Vegeta spied them leaving and thought of following them to help. As he was the Alpha's mate, it was his duty to provide comfort for his mate and tend to his needs, all things that were still fucking weird in his head but he was more than used to his little freak outs now. The bond between them had been strong before, but now it gleefully slapped him upside his head and made his skin itch (what in the actual fuck…why?!) with the urge to make his mate happy; to make sure he was healthy, sound, and alive and being the ALPHA.

Everything he wanted to do was quickly nixed with a soft grunt from his mate, the alpha, the one who had shoved all he had gained to the side and destroyed it in order to have what he truly wanted. Goku was gently pushing him to sit on an adjacent couch, not caring about food, pain, or whatever else was ailing him right now. He wanted his mate here, near him; not out of his sight where he could not see and definitely not in the kitchen doing anything that involved work. Vegeta normally would have happily gone along with the change, but this was stemming from recent events and that bubbling guilt that felt like warm upturned garbage sliding down the back of Vegeta's throat and leaving a sour taste in his mouth. This was a lot different from that vile feeling of being unworthy—not that it was welcome in his head. This feeling was coming from his mate in waves.

Nearly dying never took away from the next day. They tended to leave it behind, forget about it, reflect on it in private moments, and then get ready for the next time they nearly die. This little event though…this hadn't been necessary. It was good faith gone wrong and good intentions turned bad and Vegeta's heart hitched a little thinking about how quickly it spiraled out of control. So he didn't say anything when Goku planted himself on the couch next to him or decided that his lap was his personal headrest. They'd nearly **died** the day before. It was a subject less touched upon than Vegeta's inner demons and Goku wasn't about to let him do anything outside of sit down until Goku could be reasonably calm about resuming life as it was before that "nearly getting them killed" thing.

Vegeta stared at his mate idly rubbing the wound on his chest.

This…was probably going to be an issue for a little while.

The smaller saiyan was not the brightest soul who thought there was good in everyone. He was a skeptical son of a bitch and he saw the flaws in everything, mostly himself. His thoughts today weren't about the ineptness of being an omega or trying to quiet his doubtfulness of his mate. The scar over Goku's heart had literally killed whatever doubts of love there were in his head. No, his thoughts were on a certain blue haired woman and why he wanted to throttle her. He hadn't felt that way since he first arrived on this planet and she shoved him in a pink shirt—which Goku BURNED gleefully months ago—but the feeling was low, burning, there, and not going away for a little while.

"Dude…you live here?"

"He owns it," Vegeta replied. Krillin's brows shot up so far that if he didn't have hair they would have looked like those fake arches women tried to perfect. The feeling was mutual once. Still, rather. "Don't faint."

"I'm not…but, this place is pretty sweet," Krillin mused as he looked around. "A small army could live in here from the look of it…or a family?"

And they were not, NOT, not talking about that right now. Vegeta kept himself from freezing in place and stilled the attempt from Goku to see if he was all right. "You could say that."

"It's more like a pack house right now and somewhere cemented to ground everyone in his pack," Yamcha said as he walked back into the living room. He had tea in hand, tea that smelled familiar and reminded Gohan of his days as a boy when he was sick in bed. He didn't get sick that often, but that tea was brewed enough in his home for him to know that it was a cure all for fevers, pain, and settling hips. He gingerly handed his son over to Pan and gratefully took the tea out of his mate's hands.

He gratefully took a sip of it. "I think I love you more now."

"She's making something for you to snack on," Yamcha said with a soft kiss to his cheek. "And the feeling is mutual."

"So, I think I'm going to go in the kitchen and help," Eighteen announced. "I've got a pretty good idea what's going to happen in the next few moments, and it won't surprise me."

"This is why I like you," Goku said from his spot on the couch. "You cut to the chase."

"Yeah? Next time you decide to corner that bastard, let some of us in on it. No offense Pan."

"None taken," Pan chuckled. "I think mom has it in for him for real."

"Well then, I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."

Eighteen quickly made her way out of the room and headed towards the sounds of dishes moving and cutting and swearing violence upon an old coot that couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. As soon as she was in the massive kitchen, Chi-chi threw her a knife and an apron. Eighteen gleefully eyed the potatoes as she slid into the work and the conversation like she'd always been there.

Back in the living room everyone who wasn't in the kitchen settled on a surface to sit or lay down on. Trunks and Goten had quickly placed any and all bags away and left the presents for the newborns sitting by the entrance way for Gohan to sort through. Goten sat on the floor in front of his father, going with the firm hand on his head when it rocked him forward a bit. He sat back expecting Trunks to be somewhere nearby, but the purple headed youth had crossed the threshold and sat down next to Yamcha.

Bra and Marron made themselves comfortable on the third unoccupied couch. Marron still didn't know what was going on and was quite curious about it. Bra assured her silently that she would get her answers soon enough.

Krillin took a seat in the center of it all, sighed, and said, "So are we talking about this, or are we going to march past it?" All eyes were on him, and he threw his hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm not trying to start trouble. I just want to understand it better…and I think watching two people almost die because of an ignorant attempt to fix something that wasn't broken gives me a little leeway for a proper answer I can live with."

"It—"

"It's not that simple," Vegeta said in place of Goku. He shoved his mate's shock right back at him, fingers threaded through his unruly mane as he grounded himself for what would inexplicably come from his lips. "It's never that simple. But I think we should…give you…an explanation. I just don't know where to start."

"The beginning is always good," Krilln said softly. It was the proverbial olive branch if ever Vegeta heard one, and Krillin's attempt to try to make amends for what occurred in the hospital. It really wasn't the cueball's fault. "I know you've probably every reason not to tell me, but I do understand that your situation is troubling for you…and I'm pretty sure that a lot of it has to do with certain people in hell."

"…you're very observant."

"I've had some time to think about things."

"A whole day?"

"Yeah, well…" He fiddled with his fingers in that way he tended to when he was nervous about something. "I don't pretend to understand your feelings or how you actually feel…but I know my best friend…and he wouldn't willingly do all he did if he wasn't passionate about something." He was blushing now and Vegeta fought down his own red tomato cheeks when their eyes met. "He has to love you quite a bit…to be willing to die like that. I'm just sorry I didn't see it…and that I said what I said in the hospital. I owe you an apology."

It was emotional upturning shit like this that Vegeta hated because it did funny things to his face and his heart. He knew he was in such trouble when he felt his eyes getting misty and he wanted to slap Goku for bleeding his emotions into his head and amplifying his own. "Yeah, I know!" he said, looking down at Goku's stupid loving grin aimed upwards at him, "I already told you in the hospital and—"

"I know, for my ears only," Goku chuckled. "But Krillin's right…" **_I do love you._**

"…I know." **_…I love you too…you idiot._**

**_Always, _****always****_ your idiot, babe. _**Goku gingerly wiped the tear from Vegeta's cheek. "I think that's enough with the emotional turmoil for the day," he said as he sat up. He tucked Vegeta into his side and let them sink a little into the moment. They'd deal with all that later on. Right now, "I'm sorry as well, Krillin." Now was the time for belated apologies, explanations, and dinner by the smell of things. "I should have trusted you."

"Yeah well…whatever," Krillin sighed. "You know me well enough to know I would have thought you were insane, but given what we've seen and done? Yeah, this shit doesn't faze me that much in the aftermath."

"It doesn't?"

"Hell no. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would have freaked out to epic proportions." Hell, he was still freaking out silently because he totally had not seen any of it coming and it was just weird for him to watch the most unlikely of couples sitting next to one another, but they knew it was weird and that made it okay. "It'll take some getting used to…and I'm not expecting loving declarations spitting out of Vegeta's mouth on a regular basis because I'm sure that would freak ALL of us out—"

"I think I like the cueball better now," Vegeta murmured.

"—but it makes sense. Am I making sense?"

"Yes…oddly enough," Yamcha laughed. "And we promise to tell you the sordid details of how this ended up like this later. Right now, I think we should let everyone in on who these babies are…"

As if on cue, the babies woke with soft snuffling or yawns that had Krillin sappy and desperately trying not to coo at them. Gohan finished his tea, feeling much better, and he took their son from Pan as Yamcha took their daughter from Sierra. The women in the kitchen skid into the living room and placed themselves where they could see everything, not that it was necessary but Chi-chi felt like this should count as a lifetime event.

"It…didn't take us long to decide on names," Gohan said looking down at his son and daughter. The names had come to them in the middle of the night, settled under the covers and contemplating their soft kicking when the moon was full and the sun was high. The names had spilled from him like water from the skies and Yamcha had accepted it like the ground yearned for that water. "We've known for a while what we would name them…but it felt better to announce it here than in the hospital."

"Because it's home…and home regardless of the trials and tribulations is where our family is," Yamcha said. "So, without further delay…I'd like to introduce you to Caleb and Chloe…the names I would have granted my first son and daughter." Sierra didn't miss the significance of his words and teared right up when he reached over to take her hand. "You are welcome here, Sierra, as their sister…and as my daughter."

Krillin wasn't a stupid person. Just as quickly as he'd placed things together in the hospital, he belatedly shoved several facts together that reminded him of a woman named Nerys. He quickly and quietly shoved his questions down and focused on the moment at hand…the one that forced him to coo like the soft bitch he could be because babies had that power. "Holy hell, I didn't think anything could be so cute," Krillin cried. "What is wrong with you two? Now we'll never say no to them."

"You were never going to say no to them anyhow," Gohan laughed.

"Whatever Simba."

"Hakuna Matata."

Trunks stopped staring at the babies. "If **anyone** starts playing the circle of life, I will personally kill you."

Goten shoved his phone away. "You're such a spoilsport, Trunks."

The babies stirred at their names, awake for once, and sleepily looked up at their parents as the rest of their pack gathered around to greet them properly in their home.

There were still issues to solve, people to find, and talks to be had, but right now, this was the end of a dramatic chapter Goku would repeat if it meant feeling the soft request of his mate fluttering in his head. He shoved the immediate answer back at him and held him as close as he could with the sound of babies and laughter echoing in the background.

* * *

So, yeah...what's this silent request shit?

And when the hell are they gonna screw again?

Sierra's pack now?! What about her friend? What about her mother?!

Is Goku going to bite Krillin and make him pack!?

And what happened to Bulma?!

TIME JUMP(not a huge one)...and brace yourself for the next chapter. You have been warned.


	23. Mating, babies, and weddings--oh my

**AN:**

Yes. It's been a while.

No. There has been no change to my demeanor. I'm still a sarcastic little shit that has pushed past an age of no return.

On a nicer note, I've just hit a case of writer's block and I'm trying to push back the slump I'm in. It's harder than it looks and anyone in my shoes knows it well. SO, on that note, I don't remember what I said in the last update, but I'm getting the feeling that it's just time to seal the deal with a certain couple and just move on from there.

But for now, we're walking into the beginning of the second stage of this story and into the wild horrid blue yonder filled with babies, fighting, making up, domestic issues and-oh wait, no, that's real life for someone else. No, you're just going to watch these guys grow into themselves and possibly become mature.

WITHOUT the EARTH NEEDS SAVING stuff.

Seriously, I just need to calm down with that trying to kill the earth stuff. More on the other works of fiction later. I'm working on them I promise.

* * *

**Chapter 23:** Mating, and babies, and weddings…oh my.

"Dad! Dad!"

No matter how many times that word was shouted through this house, it always took Yamcha a while to remember that he was now a part of that faction of fathers that turned when the word "Dad" was shouted through the house. Of course he'd thought that it'd be another couple of years before he had kids screaming at the top of their lungs, but like things tended to do, it changed. He heard it again, and he further immersed himself in his afternoon tea with his mate laughing silently at him.

"You can't ignore it."

"I know," he grumbled. "Can I just drown myself in his hot beverage instead?"

What could be assumed to be thunder was rumbling through the house. Yamcha, unused to the trampling despite having heard it nearly every day since school started, braced himself for the barrage that was to come from not one, not two, but three teenage faces that came barreling into the kitchen excitedly with papers in hand. He didn't have a chance to greet them or ask them what they wanted. Hands were shoved in his face and he was staring at three consecutive A's written in bright red ink that told no lies or smelt of tampering.

It only meant one thing. One thing he was not prepared to deliver and would rather strangle himself over before he thought about doing it. "….shit."

"Ah—ah! Swear jar!" his mate chuckled. "You know the deal!"

"Well then fuck." He might as well add another dollar to the jar sitting on the table nearly filled to the brim because of several mouths in this house over the course of the last month. His mate outright laughed at him and Yamcha couldn't blame him. Hell, if it were him, Yamcha would be laughing as well. Still, "Damn it…What is wrong with all of you?!"

"Call us insane," Pan smirked. "But a deal's a deal!"

"Oh, I know…but you all got an A?! Seriously?!"

The girls grinned at him and he relinquished his scowl for the prideful grin that bled out when he snatched Sierra into his arms and kissed her forehead. Several nights of staying up late, cursing up a storm, and swearing that she had the teacher from hell had resulted in her getting a higher score than they would have hoped for. A 'B', maybe, but an A?

"I thought for sure I bombed the bonus question," she gushed, "But Gohan was right!"

"Old coots like that never change their methods," Gohan exclaimed. "He must have been grumbling under his breath about it."

He must have done more than just grumble about it. Yamcha didn't care though. He was mentally prepping himself for what would probably be the longest day of his life on Saturday. "Well, a deal is a deal…" he moaned tiredly despite his daughter laughing against him, "I will honor my part of it…and take you…ugh, shopping."

He was squeezed by Sierra and Pan and practically tackled by Bra. Most of their excitement was stemming from being able to leave the house, but a shopping trip was a bonus in their eyes. Yamcha couldn't begrudge them their excitement. A lot had changed for them in the last month. A lot had changed for everyone in the past month.

Summer's highlight was the birth of the twins and faded into Autumn with the sudden dip in the weather. September was here out of the blue and with it came the thought of text books, teachers, and that dreaded thing called high school. Pan dreaded it. Bra was looking forward to it. Sierra was at a loss about it and was Yamcha when he overheard the girls talking about the upcoming year and who they were hoping to avoid for teachers. Sierra didn't offer much to the conversation. Her father balked as his stomach sank with several questions that had him running for someone who had a better clue how to handle all of this.

Gohan was a little taken aback that he hadn't thought about this either but he had a calm head about this type of thing. He had shoved a bunch of laundry in Yamcha's arms and proceeded to call Sierra into the living room to quickly put to rest the frank unease about school and dealing with it.

Yamcha had dutifully folded the little items in his arms and let Gohan handle it.

His mate mainly asked her the obvious. What grade was she currently in? What was her grade point average? What was the last school she attended? Did she have emancipation papers? The last question had Yamcha quite curious and relatively shocked when Sierra had produced those papers after a quick rummage through her things. They remained unsigned. Her argument—a valid one if anyone knew her mother—was that Nerys would not agree to sign them because they made her look incompetent. It really didn't take much to make her look that way. No one commented on it. Sierra was sixteen years old and had a better view of the world as it worked than she should have.

It took a couple of calls and some movement of paperwork (and one unpleasant call to Nerys that went nowhere but up in the air) but they managed to enroll Sierra into the same School Pan and Bra were attending. She was a junior right alongside Bra, and Pan being the older one was a senior and rather excited about it. She was all grins the first day. Bra was a bit somber but she was degrees happier than Sierra had been when the first day arrived.

There was nothing remarkable about being the new kid. The new kid tended to get a lot of stares and attention, things that Sierra silently abhorred more than the thought of being thrust into a new environment of teenage smell. Teenage smell consisted of and was not limited to walking boners, the latest bottle of some designer dumped all over one's self mingled with those who remembered deodorant, those who didn't and the seven out of a possible eight people that remembered that breakfast didn't consist of garlic laced leftovers and/or corn chips. That combined nightmare made her shudder and looked at her father in pleading when she stalled at the doorway.

Yamcha had almost let her stay home. He was no stranger to hating being around more than two idiots at a time and those who didn't smell like pack didn't need to be close to him or talk to him or anything remotely considered civil. He'd gotten better about it, but the figurative apple from his tree had not fallen far when he'd smelt her silent distress. All he could do was hug her, kiss her forehead, and shove her out the door with instructions to call him if she really needed him.

He'd spent the entire morning glancing at his phone. When noon came around, he breathed, inhaled, and tried not to plant himself at the door and inch his way to that school just to make sure his daughter was all right. He might have mentioned his intentions to his mate. Several times. Reverently. Possibly on his way to do what he wanted and stopping himself midway.

Gohan had laughed at him and said it was perfectly normal. _"You're probably going to be worse when Caleb and Chloe start Pre-K,"_ he'd joked, and Yamcha had literally stopped breathing after gasping horridly loud and mentally screaming at the thought of his babies leaving his sight.

Gohan had laughed himself to tears even as Yamcha had scooped up the twins and swore they were never, ever, leaving his sight. EVER.

"Dad?"

"Yes my dear?"

Sierra plopped her head on his shoulder. "Can we go a little bit earlier on Saturday?" she asked. "I want to avoid the noon crowds…and the lunch crowd….and maybe a crowd all together."

"You really don't like crowds, huh," Pan mused.

She shook her head at the brunette. "Too many smells. Plus, I don't like the idea of being surrounded by so many of the people that are physically my age and mentally three. It does something to my eyes. I think it's called involuntary spasms."

She got a hearty laugh from afar. She blushed as her father chuckled and rubbed her shoulder. "You're really going to be his favorite at this rate," Yamcha said, amusement clear in his voice. "I keep forgetting that he can be quite the sarcastic bastard when he's good and ready."

"How can you ever forget that?" Pan mused. "It's like being electrocuted."

"He's been around it long enough to be immune somewhat," Gohan said, turning his head in another direction. His attention quickly fell on the dual portable basinets sitting nearby with one occupied and the other currently vacant. Chloe was sleeping soundly in her basinet, content with being warm, dry, and fed. She always tended to drift off after a good meal. It was a sign that she was definitely part of the Son line since Goku didn't resist a good nap after eating well either.

Caleb, on the other hand, was wide awake and sitting in Gohan's lap, still too young to sit up on his own but stubborn enough to believe he could. His little unsteady movements were signs of his determination to do something, although he wasn't sure what that something was. He wriggled his feet and waved his hands, grabbing hold of Gohan's sleeve when his mother gently tightened his grip. It was interesting enough to pull at and inevitably rip when he tugged a little too hard.

"Did he—"

"I'm buying a sewing machine." Gohan kissed the top of Caleb's gurgling head. "Our boy is quite strong."

They knew it was a possibility. From the day they were conceived and confirmed to stay, they knew that their children had a good chance of being abnormally strong at an early age. They really weren't expecting their son to be the prodigal one. He wasn't bending his toys or breaking people's fingers, but he was ripping every shirt Gohan owned that had a sleeve on it. His sister was usually too busy trying to follow everything that moved when she wasn't sleeping to attempt to show them how strong she was, which was fine. Yamcha thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

"All right, homework," Yamcha announced above the open groans coming from the girls, "And then training for an hour. You'll have the rest of the evening to yourselves."

"Wait, I thought it was our night to clean," Bra said.

"I'm cleaning. Think of it as a night off for passing that test."

Bra hugged him from behind tightly with a firm, "Thank you!" expressed from the bottom of her heart. Cleaning up the kitchen tended to take an hour when it came to this family and with that many mouths to feed it was a chore no one looked forward to. She grabbed her bag and ran before Yamcha could change his mind, off in search of her father and Goku buried somewhere else in the house.

Out of earshot, Gohan turned to Pan quietly fiddling with the scarf she'd pulled off of her head. "Are you two doing **any** better?"

"…I guess," she murmured. "I mean…these things take time…right?"

Gohan and Yamcha stared at one another.

* * *

"We have to work on this."

A sleepy murmur answered him. Vegeta opened his eyes reluctantly. He was currently crushed against the chest of his mate, drowsy with all intents of drifting off eventually, buried in the arms that could just as easily crush him as they embraced and the scent of safety mingled with home. That last word was still appalling in the sense that he hadn't attributed it to anything until that disaster last month. He hadn't known how and didn't have a full weight of what that word meant until they had come back to this place, put everyone to bed, and tumbled into their own with mingled fits of laughter and sobbing. Goku had wrapped himself around Vegeta and refused to let go the entire night, shivering as if he'd been robbed of all that was warm in the world. All Vegeta could do then was cling and think gratefully that he was home, he was safe, and he was loved beyond his understanding. He let his mate cling and he reciprocated in kind, unwilling to be out of his sight for days on end.

It was a process getting back to the way things were. The first week was filled with Goku sitting within close proximity of Vegeta and moving to whatever room his smaller mate was in whenever Vegeta had to go somewhere. It should have been more than annoying. The older him, the one still buried in the back of his head to immerge when his nerves were frayed, would have snapped at Goku and called him several types of unsavory names and not held a lick of mercy for his neediness. Vegeta didn't have the energy to even consider doing something like that. He honestly didn't want to. He could blame it on the Omega piece of himself, or on other circumstances, but damn near dying and realizing what little happiness he had could have shriveled up and been blown away by chance was enough to curb whatever attitudes he once harbored. He let his mate do what came natural, and if that meant letting Goku follow him to calm both of their nerves, then so be it.

Besides, it wasn't any better on his part. It still baffled him how he'd nearly had heart failure a week after the following started when Goku had randomly gotten up and headed outside. He'd dropped the laundry basket and scrambled after him, heart seized up in his throat and unwilling to stop clenching when Goku headed to the center of the backyard and simply sat down. He was hunched over like he was going to be ill and heaving as if he'd run several rounds with someone stronger. Vegeta had rushed over to him, frightened that something was wrong.

Nothing had been wrong. His mate had tried, unsuccessfully, to break that incessant need to be around Vegeta and made himself physically ill. Vegeta hadn't called him an idiot. He'd wrapped his arms around those trembling shoulders and sat outside with his mate until they were sure he wasn't going to give back lunch.

Now a month later, things were somewhat back to the way they were. Goku still hovered, but nowhere near as much as he had. It had gravitated from blatant unobtrusive stalking around the house to dragging Vegeta into their room around two in the afternoon, pulling him into the bed, and dropping off for two hours of the day. It was more sleep than the bigger saiyan got during the night.

Vegeta wriggled free a bit to stare down at his mate staring tiredly up at him. By rights, they should have been snoring the day away. The dark circles under Goku's eyes were telling. He hadn't been sleeping well recently. Vegeta didn't know if it was owed to midnight cries of babies who didn't know that they were supposed to sleep at night or something else. Of course that something else was probably the reason. He felt slivers of it bleed into their bond now and again in the middle of the night; faint traces of cold frightening guilt that would nudge his mind and be snatched back just as quickly. He felt it now when he gently placed a hand on Goku's cheek, thumbing away the light trace of a tear.

He kissed the scar lying underneath him. "We need to talk to her."

That earned him a bitter laugh and a sideways grin. "You are the last person I thought would say that."

"Me too…but this is killing you…and I like you alive."

"I'm still sorry…"

"I know…but if you apologize again I might have to punch you."

That sideways grin blossomed into an honest one and Vegeta smiled softly in kind. He dropped his head against Goku's and remained unmoving, even as the door to their room opened once and shut without the occupant coming in.

"We have to work on that, too," Goku murmured. "It's been long enough."

"I'll talk to her later tonight," Vegeta promised. "And then we'll talk about the other thing."

"We're calling it a thing now?"

"Technically it is a thing…because I want to throttle it."

"…are we talking about—"

"Yes, I'm talking about her. Not…**that**."

Goku's smile widened impossibly. "I love it when you confuse me." Vegeta snorted and let himself be pulled back into his embrace. "And we'll definitely talk about that tonight. Several times."

Vegeta slapped his giggling mate's shoulder and didn't disagree.

* * *

"So when's the wedding?"

Trunks purposely did not put his fork in his mouth. He might have tried to stab himself a little. He heard two stifled grunts of amusement and one noticeable snort—that one came from his father bent over the sink trying to stop laughing—and the silence resumed itself. His meal of whatever pasta thing he'd been handed to taste test before dinner was forgotten about. The audacity of that question popping out of his sister's mouth had ruined everything. Well not everything, but it put him off of eating and wanting to die a little. Bra grinned at him.

Goten, sweet simpleton Goten, didn't catch on. He was too busy staring at her like she'd possibly committed a breach of bro code…had she been a dude.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh nothing," she grinned. "I mean, you said you liked this girl, right?"

"I mean yeah…but it's not THAT serious," Goten exclaimed. "We've been on more than our fair share of dates but we haven't talked about settling down or anything. I'm not quite there yet."

Trunks could feel it coming and could do absolutely fucking nothing to stop it. His sister straightened, fiddled with her pencil, and the evil twit smiled around the eraser and said, "Trunks may get married before you at this rate."

He wanted to crawl in a hole and die. His face lit up like the tomatoes his father was currently slicing nearby and thought the tomatoes had a better disposition in life. Goten, like the true simpleton he could be, widened his eyes and stared at his best friend in slight awe. "Wait, what?! You're getting married?!"

"Oh dear god," Trunks muttered. "Please kill me."

It had been a little over an hour since he'd walked through the door. Despite the misconceptions of what people believed, he was still a working and functioning employee of his namesake's company, and that meant having to deal with the ins and outs of EVERYTHING since he was still the president of the Capsule Corp. He still had his moments when he slipped out of the window and flew somewhere to ignore the constant stream of idiocy directed at him in paperwork and outrageous proposals and merges, but as the functioning head of the company, he HAD to go into the office now and again.

He'd come home from work, plopped down on the couch and contemplated burning his tie. The stray thought about calling his mom was ignored when the bubble of anger flared a little in his stomach. It was still an unresolved matter for another day. Bra's muttering nearby swept his previous thoughts under the rug. She had been settled knee deep in what he could assume to be homework. It certainly looked like it from the way she was grumbling to herself about some teacher and his insane assignments, but it could have easily been something else. He wasn't that interested to know or help. After dealing with idiots all day at work, his brain refused to function properly.

Whatever nap he thought to take was rudely displaced by the soft chime of his phone. The slight chime had sparked his attention and his reluctance to answer it. It also perked up Bra's attention and her immediate dismissal of her own work when they randomly had the same thoughts about who made it chime so. It could be work, in which case Trunks was not, NOT, not answering it, or it could be…someone else.

It wasn't work. Work didn't send him text messages he opened and tried desperately not to smile at. Tyler was waving, leaning against a wall somewhere and decked out to the nines in his tux. Doctors didn't rent. Well, Trunks assumed they didn't rent but then again, what they did in their own time wasn't his business really. Hair slicked back with a bit of it falling in his eyes and smiling so made him look like a GQ model…and it was effectively ruined by kids running around in the back and the caption, "I can wear this at our wedding, right?"

**_Like hell he could. _**

Trunks backpedaled from that thought so quick he nearly whiplashed himself.

Tyler was joking of course. The doctor tended to joke a lot he found, as he found out that weekend when Trunks was supposed to call him…and didn't. In his defense, he totally was sleep deprived and living in a house with crying babies and consoling sleepless new parents was not a good way to get a good night's sleep. Of course being called at three in the morning by an unrecognizable number that had been the hospital and Tyler on the other end of the line asking Trunks why he was at work only made the purple headed saiyan plop his head into his pillow. He tiredly apologized, his gut twisting weirdly when Tyler laughed at him instead of hanging up. He mentioned something about Sharon and Trunks was up so quick with a hard "OH SHIT!" that Tyler had dissolved into a full cackle that didn't abate for five minutes.

Trunks stared at his phone, and found his finger reaching for the video function.

He had been met with a Tyler that looked no better than him at three in the morning; bleary eyed, yawning, and in need of a decent shave and some much needed coffee. He'd rubbed his scruffy head of brown and waved. Trunks waved back, a smile slipping onto his sleep addled face.

They spent the next two hours talking…and the third hour sleeping on the other's lines.

Complete high school shenanigans.

Tyler or someone hung up the line on the other end. Trunks was out cold until sometime the next day, when he was jarred awake by the buzz of his phone and the late light of the morning turned afternoon. Usually someone dragged him out of the bed long before then. He was too preoccupied with grabbing hold of his phone and blearily staring at the message waiting for him.

It was a picture of Tyler, sleeping next to a cup of coffee and the caption, "Even I need sleep."

From that point on they'd talked every other day between one another's work schedules and busy forms of life taking hold. Tyler liked sending pictures with captions when he couldn't talk much and Trunks refused to tell anyone that some of them were the funniest things he'd ever read. The one where he'd scrunched up his nose and directed his finger to the vomit all over him because of the smiling kid he'd been holding came to mind, but this one….this last picture text wasn't funny at all.

It was scary for reasons he would not ponder about…but not because he ignored it. No. Bra and her nosey person had snatched the phone from his slack hands and saw for herself what had him gob smacked.

She had **leered** at him and now he was sitting here, staring at Goten staring wildly at** him** and the universe just wasn't fair damn it.

"You're getting married?!"

"Wha—NO! NO," Trunks exclaimed, "I'm not getting married! I mean, we haven't been on a proper DATE yet and it was a joke!"

"A man who jokes about marriage usually means it." Trunks wanted to glare at Yamcha coming to sit next to him smelling like baby powder and milk. Yamcha ignored it and patted his shirt free of the left over powder. "What do you mean you haven't been on a proper date? He certainly thinks you're amazing even though I question his tastes."

"Ha, ha, FUNNY," he told the snickering new father, "But come on. I'm busy running the company and he's a doctor that claims babies hate him. When is there time to do anything but text one another?"

"Babies don't hate him really. They just love coming when he tries to sleep." Trunks snorted at that a little. It certainly seemed that way. The last time they had a conversation Tyler was getting paged to the delivery room at one in the morning when he was supposed to get off. Yamcha reached out and plucked the front of his scrunched up brow. "You're the president of a company and he's a doctor that has more time sitting for him waiting to take it than he likes to admit. Make it work dolt."

"I'm not even sure I like him that way and oh dear god, why am I talking to you openly about this?" He dropped his head, laughter bubbling to join the laughter already wrapped in the room mingled between his sister, Yamcha and his father's silent guffaws. "I've lost my mind. I know I have."

"You're comfortable is all," Vegeta said. "And you'll get used to it…even if you seriously don't."

That sparked another round of laughter, this time echoed by the Alpha of the house roaming into the kitchen. He was in good spirits, a nice change from the sullen solemn beast that had come home a month ago fixated on his scar. At the moment he had a t-shirt on to cover that up, and his hands were occupying themselves by taking hold of the smaller waistline of his mate idly shoving a forkful of that pasta dish into his mouth. Goku ate it and made a noise of approval, going back for a second bite and kissing his mate gratefully for samples.

It was so domestic that it was right there on the scale of sickeningly sweet and so normal now that thinking about it had them muffling their amusement. Unfortunately Goten wasn't laughing. He was still as confused as ever, and now he was staring at Trunks stuffing his face again to keep from blushing horridly.

Trunks rubbed his face tiredly when it didn't work. "What?"

"You're dating?"

"I wouldn't call it dating…it's more like…talking," Trunks said. "I haven't physically seen him and he hasn't physically seen me. He does call often…" And Trunks was not going to admit that he might have called Tyler a lot more than he thought he did when this hadn't been a thing. "He's…interesting. Why? You didn't tell anyone until you accidently let it slip."

Goten grinned a little. "I'm just relieved a little."

"Relieved?"

"Yeah! I mean, you were totally bummed out when I said I was seeing someone. I thought you were lonely or something…especially after—"

"We do not talk about that, **ever**," Trunks growled and Yamcha howled with laughter. "I wasn't aware of it and I **don't** want to relive it thank you."

"I'm just saying—"

"Say less."

"—that I'm happy you found someone. Man, I thought this would be more awkward."

"And it isn't how?"

"Well, you're seeing Tyler now…and now it won't be awkward since your crush on me is over."

This time, Trunks did stab himself with the fork. Unintentionally but…YEAH. He stared at Goten staring back at him like this was totally normal for them and no one else was silently losing their shit. Bra was practically red in the face from trying to breathe between laughs. Yamcha was no better. He shoved his head into his trembling arms and didn't dare lift his face. Vegeta was a lot less animated, staring at Goten and then at Goku like it was his fault that his youngest boy was a total simpleton clone of his smirking self.

Trunks wished there was a hole for him to crawl in and die.

Oh, wait, he could make one.

"It's no big deal," Goten reasoned. "I mean, I knew you'd get over it."

"Oh, yeah…" His heart couldn't take this shit. It was like being stabbed all over again with a twist. "It's…so not a big deal."

"Great!" Goten slapped his hands on the table as he got up. "Well, I'm going to work out a bit before dinner. Don't eat everything!"

Just like that, the conversation ended, the laughter dried up, and Trunks was left staring at his backside as Goten fled to the outside. It seriously did not just end like it had…had it? Trunks wanted to believe he was still sleeping, like this sting in his chest didn't trump the embarrassment seeping out onto his cheeks. Mortification was not an appropriate word right now. It didn't hold a candle to the hot and cold feeling of being dismissed so quickly or knowing that he wasn't even entertained as a thought for his best friend. That should have been relieving, but right now it was more insulting than it should have been.

Something solid dropped down onto his shoulders. He wasn't a statue and he couldn't sit like one forever. He leaned back and his head bumped into the solidity of Goku staring down at him, a small smile of regret and understanding bleeding into his nonchalant face. He wiped at something on Trunks' face; a tear Trunks hadn't even registered falling until the gesture cooled his cheeks.

He sniffed, willed himself to keep it together, and said, "I kind of hate him right now." Goku laughed a little at that and plopped down in the seat Bra vacated next to him. The Blue haired clone of her mother headed for her father motioning for her to come and help him finish dinner. Trunks watched them fall into their silent routine of cooking, unaware of his head dropping onto Goku's shoulder. "Can I hate him for a little while?"

"Sure. Just don't hate him forever," Goku said softly. "The apple didn't fall far from that tree."

He couldn't hate him forever. Right now though, it was easy. "Right."

"But, on the bright side, if you'd just take some time OFF and go see Tyler, then you can totally throw it in his face when you get married before him."

Trunks rolled his eyes dutifully. "And we're back to that."

"Of course! I know my boy thinks he's protecting his love life by not exposing her to us, but no worthy female is going to make it unless they push to get to know us. Plus…I like Tyler. He's amusing."

"And handsome," Bra remarked. "He looked like one of those models out of the magazines."

"Then you date him," Trunks said. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"As if. He likes purple haired men that are too stubborn to know when to go and do something worthwhile. Just go see him or something…preferably soon. Before some stupid nurse swings his or her hips a certain way and you're prospectively alone again."

"…wow. Can I hate you too?"

"Nope. Trust me Trunks…I have a good feeling about the good doctor."

"Fine whatever." He was **not** smiling at her or the firm one armed hug he was getting from Goku. "I'll see what he thinks about dinner or—"

The chime from his odd hellish heaven stopped him. He reached for his phone on the table, opened the message waiting for him and died when his heart beat his insides up.

Goku hit the small button with the microphone and said easily, "Yes, he would love to have dinner with you Saturday." He hit send before Trunks could protest and they smiled at the happy face emoji sent back in response.

* * *

So...I'm working on it. Think of it like a slice of life interlude.

Until next time! (Sooner than later if this writing thing holds).


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